Breaking Point
by RoadrunnerDM
Summary: Every man has his limits. Has Lee Adama reached his? Completed.
1. Default Chapter

Breaking Point  
by Dana Martin

Disclaimer: Based upon characters and situations created by Glen Larson and Ron Moore, and the other staff writers of "Battlestar Galactica", past and present. I have no financial or legal claim for the use of these characters – I'm just bringing them out to play.

Setting: Several weeks after the events in season 1.  
Certain assumptions have been made regarding early season 2 events, the details of which are beyond the scope of this fic.  
- Kara, Helo, and Baltar have already returned to Galactica.  
- Colonel Tigh has made a "deal" with President Roslin in order to restore order to the fleet. She has been restored to office.  
- The deal included immunity from prosecution for both William and Lee Adama.  
- Commander Adama has now physically recovered from the shooting, and is on the verge of resuming command.

**Chapter 1**

William Adama woke groggily. He almost slept right through the knocking on his door, but whoever was out there was being very persistent and eventually the pounding roused him from a deep sleep. He groaned and rolled into a sitting position. Checking the clock, he groaned again. 01:07 hours. No alert had been sounded through the ship and no one had called on the phone. It couldn't be an emergency then. It was just some bothersome, inconsiderate visitor arriving uninvited in the middle of the night, and that visitor was continuing to pound on the door.

"Just a minute!" he called out in a sleepy growl. Heaving himself to his feet, he shuffled wearily to the door, thinking, "You're getting old Husker. Once upon a time, you'd have been wide awake on a moment's notice and ready for action. Now it takes 20 minutes to get both your brain and your body in gear."

William had abandoned any pretense of modesty in the service many years ago, so he didn't bother to don a robe. Wearing only a loose pair of sweatpants and his grey undershirt, he reached for the handle on the hatch. "Who is it?" he called gruffly.

"It's Saul," a voice replied. "Bill, we need to talk."

That meant trouble of some sort, but it couldn't be Cylons or a problem with the fleet. Did Saul just have another spat with Ellen and need a couch to crash on? William spun the lock and yanked the hatch open to be greeted by the very grim face of his XO. "This better be important," he said. Without giving Colonel Tigh a chance to respond, he turned and shuffled back into his room. "I am going to be back on the job in just a few more hours, you know. Granted, I've been on medical leave for a long time and you're understandably anxious to hand over the reigns, but can't this possibly wait until morning?"

"'Fraid not," Saul said gruffly, pausing just inside the room to shut the hatch behind him.

"You do know what time it is?"

Ignoring the question, Saul told him, "Bill there's been an incident... with Lee."

William flinched as he stepped into his small bathroom. He shook his head, reaching for the faucet handle. "Gods," he grumbled. "How many passes does that boy think he's going to get?" He splashed water onto his face. "Whatever crisis you had to deal with, Saul... whatever deal you had to make with the President or the Quorum, you shouldn't have let Lee off so easily. It was mutiny, for crying out loud."

"He damn near single-handedly saved the ship Bill," Tigh said dourly. "We're all still breathing because of him. A little gratitude seemed appropriate."

"I know he's been invaluable to the ship these past few weeks, but apparently he now thinks he can get away with anything. Well, he's left us no choice. If he's crossed the line again we're going to have to throw the book at him this time..._hard_." He shut off the water and reached for a towel.

Saul stood ill at ease by the bathroom door. "This one's... _different_."

William dried his face. "So, what the frak has he done this time?" He hung the towel back in place and turned toward his XO.

Saul hesitated. "Maybe you should sit down," he suggested to his old friend.

William shook his head and strode from the bathroom into his office space. He faced Saul directly. "Just tell me what he's done," William said in darkly measured tones.

Tigh nodded and visibly steeled himself. "Lee..." The Colonel had to clear his throat. "He tried to kill himself."

At first, Saul's words didn't even register in William's mind. They were simply incomprehensible. He just stared at Saul in stunned silence.

Saul noted his old friend's frozen expression. He continued in as steady a voice as he could manage. "Apparently he removed the Red Needle from his Viper at some point... we don't know when. He might have been carrying it around for days... or even weeks. We don't really know. But about an hour ago, in quarters... he used it."

The change of expression crept onto William's face so gradually that it was impossible to note the actual progression, but as Saul continued talking, William's face soon bore the very image of stunned horror. The rest of his body remained utterly motionless. Paralyzed.

"Fortunately," Saul said, "Starbuck found him within just a few minutes and started CPR right away. The medics did manage to get a pulse back before they transported him to sickbay, but I'm afraid he's still critical right now."

The Red Needle. Every pilot was issued one of the small, bright red cylinders, about the size of a narrow pencil and only three inches long. The hollow safety cap was designed to only be snapped open with firm effort so that the sharp needle point inside could not be exposed by accident. It was supposed to remain tucked into that little compartment in the Viper beside the cockpit hatch release, only to be used as a last resort; only to be used in the case of likely imminent capture by the enemy, or if stranded without hope of rescue. It was an alternative to torture or a slow, painful death. It was quick, relatively painless, and lethal.

Lee had used his Red Needle.

William felt every nerve in his body turn ice cold. This couldn't be true. It was impossible. He wanted to ask Saul to tell him this was just some sick, tasteless joke. But, William knew better. Saul would never joke over something like this. The chill that had descended upon him made him begin to shiver. His legs began to feel suddenly unsteady. He broke eye contact with Saul and glanced around for the nearest place to sit. Saul stepped forward to offer a steady hand and directed William into a chair by the bed.

"Bill, are you all right?" Saul asked. As he watched the color drain from his old friend's face, Tigh was on the verge of reaching for the phone to call for a medical team. "Bill, say something now or I'm calling for the doctor."

"Is there any hope?" William whispered.

"They did get a pulse...," Tigh started to say.

"You already told me that."

"That's all I know Bill. You'll have to ask Major Cottle for anything more."

As William sat shivering his eyes fell upon a photograph that was perched on the end-table next to the chair. The smiling faces of his beautiful young wife and two little boys gazed back at him. William reached for the photograph and held it in trembling hands. Lee was so young, and so carefree. He stared at the face of his beautiful boy with the bright blue eyes, and the innocent happy smile.

Saul watched sadly as William's head dropped downward and he clutched the photograph to his chest. There was no sound of sobbing, but William's shoulders were shaking. Then he took a sudden gasping breath. Saul leaned down, squeezing William's shoulders. "They did get to him quickly Bill. He could very well pull through this."

William lifted his head and wiped the traces of tears from his face. He told Saul, "I talked to him... just yesterday. He was... _tired_, but I never thought... Gods, why didn't I see it? He stood right here, and I didn't..."

"Don't do that Bill," Saul counseled him. "Don't start blaming yourself. Nobody saw this coming. That kid's always had a knack for putting up a tough front."

"He's my son." William looked at the photograph again. "My... little... boy. I should know him better than that." William cleared his throat and set the picture aside. He pushed himself abruptly to his feet and grabbed for the closet door.

"Bill slow down," Saul urged him. "You're healed, but you're not back up to full strength yet."

"Maybe not," William conceded, grabbing a sweatshirt off of a shelf. "But I have to get going. My boy just tried to commit suicide. I have to find out if he succeeded."

Commander William Adama found his way to sickbay almost by instinct. He had spent a lot of time there recently, recovering from his own brush with death. When he'd been released to complete his recovery in his own quarters, it had been his intention not to set foot in sickbay again for a very long time. But now he was back, and returning under circumstances worse than any he could have imagined.

As he turned a corner in the hallway and sickbay came into view, William saw Kara Thrace pacing anxiously outside the door. She was visibly distraught and so focused upon her anguish that she didn't even see the commander until he was practically standing right beside her. She looked up at him with a slight start. The look on her face frightened him.

"Lee," he whispered. "Is he...?" He couldn't quite manage to voice the question.

"They're still working on him," Kara replied in a shaky voice.

"How is he doing?" William asked, relieved to hear that at least his son was still alive.

"I uh... I'm not sure," she answered. "They won't tell me much. They just keep rushing around and, um... they won't let me see him yet."

William offered her a meager smile and squeezed her shoulder, then stepped past her into sickbay. It was mostly quiet, with the majority of patients trying to sleep through the late night hours. The commander's attention was drawn toward a station about half-way down the line of beds where a curtained partition was drawn closed for privacy. There were voices chattering away anxiously inside the partition. William knew instinctively that was where Lee was. He stood staring at the curtain, seeing it move and shift from air currents generated by the people moving around on the other side. He contemplated walking over there and taking a look inside, and suddenly found his feet in motion. He knew the medics wouldn't want him there. He knew they would tell him he was in the way and would ask him to wait outside with Kara. He didn't care. He was going to see his son.

Before he even got close enough to reach for the curtain, someone yanked it partway open from the inside. A nurse strode out, heading for the medicine locker. She had left the curtain open slightly, and William was able to partially see his son. His feet halted and he stood frozen in place, staring. There were tubes and monitor wires everywhere. Lee's face was partially obscured from view by the ventilator tube that was taped in place over his mouth, and Adama knew that the tube extended down Lee's throat into his windpipe. Lee wasn't breathing on his own. As frightening as that realization was, what shocked William the most was how ghostly pale Lee was. His boy was damn near as white as the bed sheets.

One of the nurses caught sight of the commander watching them. He said something to Dr. Cottle who quickly stepped over and pulled the curtain shut. The other nurse returned from the medicine locker with a vial in her hand and locked eyes with the commander.

"Please," he asked her, "how is he doing?"

"We're doing all we can," she answered, sidestepping the real question. "I'll let the doctor know you're here," she said, and slipped back inside the curtain, carefully pulling it completely closed.

William stood in place, as if he could still see the image of his son lying still and pale before him. He heard the voices of the medics, but none of their words registered in his brain. After several minutes of haunted immobility, William turned and walked slowly toward the door.

Kara was still pacing in the hallway. She looked up at the commander with a brief flash of hope that quickly faded as it became apparent that there was no news. "Still can't see him?" she asked, though she already knew the answer.

William didn't bother trying to answer. He leaned against the corridor wall. "Colonel Tigh told me that you were the one who found him," the commander said quietly.

Kara gave a curt nod. "Yeah." She stopped pacing and crossed her arms over her chest. "And, um... I was with him... right before it happened."

William regarded her carefully. "You were _with_ him?"

She nodded again. Her face was calm, but there was a slight tremble to her voice. "Well... we all were. The whole squadron. We wanted to uh... welcome him back. You know? A kind of a _de_-motion party, what with him getting bounced down from acting-XO back to CAG, now that you're back in command again." Kara cleared her throat and ran her hands through her short blonde hair.

"I sort of... _bullied_ him into it," she laughed nervously. "I met up with him as he was leaving CIC at the end of his shift."

* * *

"_Hey Apollo," Kara called out, falling into step beside him. "Now that you're officially demoted back to CAG, I thought you might like to go slumming this evening and reacquaint yourself with your pilots."_

_Lee offered her a sideways glace. "It's not like I've been TDY for six months Lieutenant."_

_So, Lee was still calling her "Lieutenant." Kara was determined to break him of that habit, quickly. It had been going on for far too long. "Really? You seem to have completely forgotten _my_ first name."_

"_Nothing is forgotten... Lieutenant."_

"_Fine, you're still pissed at me, but that's no reason to give the rest of the squadron the cold shoulder."_

"_Management of the squadron has been your job for the last 4 weeks. If they're feeling neglected maybe you should reexamine your own interpersonal skills Lieutenant."_

_

* * *

_  
"He was... a little reluctant at first," Kara told the commander. "He just didn't seem much in the mood for a party. So I... _pushed_ him a little."

_

* * *

Kara stepped right into Lee's path and blocked his way. "Okay enough! I didn't come by here to pick a fight Lee."_

"_Captain," he corrected her._

"Lee_," she stubbornly persisted, "you and I need to talk. We have been through too frakking much to just..."_

"_We're not friends," he interrupted, in a cold, quiet voice. "As far you're concerned, I'm just the CAG."_

"_Shit, Lee... that was 6 weeks ago! Look we _both_ acted like asses, okay? And I know you've been stressed beyond reason ever since then, but your Dad is going to be back on the job tomorrow morning. Things are starting to get back to normal now. Can't we..."_

"_There is no 'we'. Remember?" He stepped around her and kept walking._

_

* * *

_  
"I had to uh, push him pretty hard, actually," Kara admitted to the commander.

* * *

_Kara stepped right back into Lee's path, pulled back a fist, and punched him across the jaw. Lee was thrown back a few steps before he caught his balance. "Go ahead," Kara urged him. "Hit me back. Don't tell me you don't want to. You've wanted to smack me for the last 4 weeks now, since the moment I got back from Caprica. You think I couldn't tell? Go ahead. I just gave you fair reason, so hit me!"_

_Lee rubbed his jaw, but didn't move to strike her. "What I should do is have you hauled off to the brig."_

"_You should," she agreed. "But I guarantee you'll feel better if you just hit me."_

_Lee straightened up and faced her with a look of aching sadness. "You really believe that?" He brushed past her and continued walking down the hallway._

_

* * *

_  
"It was obvious he was really tired," Kara said.

Commander Adama nodded. "He seemed that way to me too, yesterday afternoon."

Kara bit her lip, then said, "Yeah, and last night he was even more so, but I thought it would really do him good to relax and loosen up a little before turning in. You know, let go of some of the stress.

* * *

_Kara hadn't expected that reaction from Lee at all. He always fought back. She followed after him. "All right," she said. "It will make _me_ feel better if you hit me. How's that?"_

_Lee shook his head. "For Lords' sake, Kara... I'm tired, I'm hungry. I just want a chance to _sit down_ for a meal for the first time in Zeus-knows-how-long and then..." _

_He'd called her "Kara"! She was making progress. "Fine, you can hit me after dinner."_

"_I don't want to hit you!" he snarled. "I'm tired of fighting everyone and everything! Cylons! You! My father! Colonel Tigh! The Quorum! Frak it... I just want a little peace! For five frakking minutes, can't you give me that!" His voice was breaking as he completed his tirade._

_Kara swallowed. "Okay. I'm sorry. I just wanted to... look Lee, the simple fact is that the squadron has really missed you. For whatever odd reason, they're not just looking forward to having the commander back on the job. They're looking forward to having you back with us too. They've... _we_'ve missed your boring briefings and textbook patrols. Look, they're all gathering in the rec room, and they want to welcome you back. Can't you just drop by and pretend for a minute that you're glad to be coming back? Then, you can sneak off alone if you want, and I promise no one will bother you the rest of the night."_

_Kara didn't really intend to let Lee sneak off anywhere, but if she could just get him into a relaxed social gathering among friends, maybe... just maybe it would do him some good. _

_

* * *

_"At first," she told the commander, "it seemed to be working. The squadron was all waiting in the rec room, and once he walked in and saw everybody there... he smiled for the first time in weeks."

* * *

_Lee actually jumped back startled as he came through the rec room door and was greeted by a shrill yodeling. A few seconds later the yodeling transformed into a horridly off-key rendition of the old Caprican ballad, "Back Where I Belong." Barely half-way through the first verse, Lee was unable to resist laughing._

"_Obviously, the ambrosia has been flowing for a while already," Lee said, shaking his head and wincing at the caterwauling from his pilots._

_

* * *

_  
"And then, we had a few drinks. We had Kat run down to the mess and grab some food for him. He took a few minutes talking with each one of the pilots. And... he really seemed okay. He was relaxed, even a little chatty. Helo invited him to sit in on a game of cards... and he did. I didn't even have to push him. He pulled up a chair. Four of us sat there.. and he really seemed okay, for a while. But then..."

"What?" the commander asked. He'd been leaning against the wall while Kara talked, but now he straightened up, sensing she was leading up to something more than a recounting of a simple card game.

"He started to get... distant, and quiet. I thought it was just the fatigue starting to catch up with him again."

* * *

"_How many cards Captain? Sir?"_

_Lee Adama blinked and looked back at Helo. Lee's face was void of any expression. Then his eyes idly scanned the cards in his hand again. He separated two cards from the others and tossed them onto the table. "I'll take two," he said quietly, his voice nearly monotone._

_The Raptor pilot dealt a pair of cards from the top of the deck and slid them across the tabletop to his CAG. Helo then turned his attention to the player sitting on his right. "How about you Starbuck?"_

_Kara pursed her lips and offered a smug smile to the rest of the players. "Well, I've grown suddenly quite attached to these cards I have right here." She winked to the sullen-faced captain, but he gave no reaction. "I'll stand," she said._

"_I'm out," Kat said, tossing her cards onto the table._

"_Smart girl," Kara said. "You still in Helo?"_

_Helo winced. When Starbuck stood on her initial hand, that wasn't a good sign to anyone who was playing against her. Still, his hand had potential. He flipped a single card onto the tabletop and announced, "Dealer takes one."_

"_And that," Kara declared with excessive cheerfulness, "passes the ball back to our intrepid leader." All eyes at the table, and those of the observing crowd, shifted to Lee Adama. He appeared completely oblivious. After a few seconds of absolutely no action from Lee, Kara whistled glibly. "Hello over there," she called. "Are you going to bet or not?"_

_Lee's face remained a blank slate, but he finally flicked a pair of coins into the center of the table. "I'm in for 20."_

_Kara raised an eyebrow. "I'll see your 20, and raise you 30. Wouldn't want you to get too bored, Bossman." Lee looked back at her, but his sullen expression didn't change. She had hoped that her forced levity might lighten up his mood again. "Gotta keep the excitement coming. And that makes 50 to you Helo," she said._

_Helo frowned, and then dropped his cards. "Too rich for me. I'm out."_

"_Looks like it's just you and me," Kara said to Lee. "That is, if you have 30 more."_

_Lee's eyes glanced toward the clock. "It's nearly midnight," he said quietly._

"_So? Your money will still be good tomorrow," she replied, keeping her voice chipper. "Besides, you don't have the early shift. And with the Old Man back, Colonel Tigh will actually have to do his own job for a change." That prompted a ripple of laughs amongst the pilots._

_Lee just blinked, apparently not as amused as everyone else._

_

* * *

_  
Kara shook her head, her voice growing grim. "And then... he did something I just didn't understand."

"What?" the commander asked. "What did he do?"

* * *

"_Tell you what," Lee said. "Let's just get this over with. I'll bet everything I have." He shoved his entire stack of holdings into the center of the table._

_Kara tapped her cards on the table. "Interesting. But you know, I have more to bet with than you do, so it's really pointless to try buying the pot. If _I_ bet everything, you'll just have to fold."_

"_That's your call to make," Lee said. "But then you'll never know if I could have beaten you." A few observers chuckled. In spite of Lee's ultra-deadpan demeanor, he was sending an unmistakable challenge to Starbuck._

_Kara smiled at Lee. "So, I can go for the simple win... or beat you head to head and _then_ win. Hmm. Tough choice. I call." She measured out a number of cubits to equal Lee's bet and pushed them into the pile in the middle of the table. Then she turned her cards over to reveal, "Full straight."_

_The observers held their breath as Lee gave another long look at his cards. Then he let out a slow breath and shook his head. "I'm done," he said, laying his cards face-down on the table. A few of the observing pilots groaned softly in disappointment. Lee stood up from his chair. "Good night everyone," he said to the squadron and headed for the door._

"_Lee?" Kara called after him. She reached to scoop up her winnings, but didn't want to just let Lee walk away like that. She really hadn't intended to cheer him up by cleaning him out. "Hey wait a minute! At least let me buy you another drink." He didn't look back. Before she had gathered all her cubits, he was out the door and gone._

"_What the frak?" Helo suddenly commented. He had just taken a look at Lee's cards._

"_What?" Kara asked._

_Helo turned over the cards for everyone to see. "He had full colors!"_

"_What?" Kara asked again, grabbing for the cards. Several of the pilots burst out laughing, but Kara didn't find this at all amusing. Lee had beaten her. He'd known it. And yet he'd just left all of his money and walked away?_

"_Man," Kat said, "he must really be wiped. He can't even see straight."_

"_Or think straight," Hotdog suggested._

_Helo said, "Or... he can do both, but doesn't give a shit."_

_

* * *

_  
"He won... but pretended that he didn't," Kara said. "He just... walked away. He _knew_ he won. He had to. Tired or not, he had to know, but he just left his money and walked away." Kara shook her head in confusion over the memory. "It worried me a little," she said. "So, I tried to follow right after him."

* * *

_Kara grabbed for the remaining cubits on the table._

"_Hey Starbuck," Helo called out. "Come on. The captain won all that fair and square... whether he realizes it or not."_

_Kara glared at Helo. "Which is why I'm going to go give it to him. If you want, you can follow me and make sure that I don't stuff it under my mattress, all right?"_

_Helo held up his hands. "No thanks. If there's any chance you two are getting into it, I don't want to be standing in the kill zone."_

_Kara gave Helo a sour eye, then stuffed the last few cubits into her pockets and took off after Lee. Judging by how tired he was, she assumed he was headed to his rack for some long overdue sleep. She strode through the hallways, torn between feelings of concern and anger. What was Lee thinking? Was his head really that muddled? Or was he yanking her chain and testing her integrity while embarrassing her in front of the squadron?_

_

* * *

_  
Kara hugged her hands tighter beneath her arms. "He was only out of my sight for a few minutes," she told the commander. "Just a few minutes... but when I got to quarters..."

* * *

_It took only a few minutes to reach the room that she shared with Lee and several other pilots. By then, however, she was already worked up into a tense mood that threatened to turn ugly if Lee so much as smirked at her when she tried to return his money. She tugged on the heavy hatch to the room and pulled it open. Frosty and Stinger were already tucked away in their racks, snoring. They had the first CAP in the morning, so Kara stepped into the room quietly and looked toward the back. Lee was also already in his rack, but apparently he'd been so tired that he hadn't bothered to remove his pants or shoes before lying down. He had only taken off his tunic._

"_He must really be wiped," Kara thought, any remnant anger disappearing quickly. Then she noticed in the dim light that Lee's eyes were still open. He wasn't asleep yet. She walked up beside his rack._

"_Lee?" she said quietly. "Look I know you're not much of a card shark, but even you know that full colors beats a straight." She reached into her pocket and grabbed a handful of cubits. "You won. I don't know what you were trying to do back there but... here. You earned it."_

_He didn't make any move to claim his prize._

"_Lee, come on. This isn't likely to ever happen again, so savor it while you can."_

_

* * *

_  
Kara choked up and winced at the memory. Tears welled up in her eyes. "When I got there... it was too late."

* * *

_Lee didn't move. He didn't even look her way._

_Kara was starting to get worried. "Lee? Would you please say something to me? Tell me to frak off if you want, but this silent treatment is scaring me."_

"_Frak off," said one of the other pilots who had been trying to sleep._

"_Hey, I wasn't talking to you Frosty!" Kara retorted sharply._

_She turned back to Lee. "Come on Lee. Take the damn money." She grabbed for his hand to give him the cubits. His hand was limp. Kara's heart skipped a beat. "Lee?" She stepped up on the edge of the lower bunk for better access. She leaned over him, grabbing him by the shoulders and shaking him. His head lolled limply to one side and she saw his open eyes staring blankly at nothing. Franticly, she felt at his throat for a pulse. There was none._

_

* * *

_  
"I was too late," Kara choked.

Commander Adama stepped forward and took her into his arms, hugging her. "That's not what I heard," he said gently. "Colonel Tigh said that you saved him."

* * *

"_Lee!" Kara shouted, terrified. "No! Please no! Frosty, get the frak up now!"_

"_Whhaat?" Frosty groaned, rolling over._

"_Get up and get over here! Help me!" Kara screamed. "I can't get him out on my own. Help me!" she pleaded._

_Frosty was rolling to his feet. "Starbuck, what are you doing?"_

"_He's not breathing!" she shouted. "Help me get him on the floor! Stinger, call for a medic! Hurry!"_

_All the pilots were in motion now, moving with swift urgency. Frosty was a tall man, barely squeaking in under the pilots' maximum height limit, and his tattooed arms were broader than most men's legs. Kara scrambled out of the way while Frosty stepped up beside Lee's rack and reached in. He got one arm under Lee's shoulders and pulled him around until he could get a firm grip around Lee's chest. Then he heaved Lee's body from the upper level rack while Kara stood by to grab Lee's legs. Frosty bore most of Lee's weight, but Kara still struggled to assist. Lee was slim and only of average height, but he was very muscular and much heavier than he looked. They eased his slack body to the floor and laid him out as gently as they could. Kara leaned over him, slapping at his face, but Lee gave no response. _

"_Damn it Lee... you can't do this! Please...!" She slipped a hand under his neck and tilted his head back. Holding his jaw open, she fitted her mouth over his and tried to breathe some life back into his inert lungs. _

"_Shit, I got no pulse," Frosty declared, releasing Lee's wrist from his grasp._

"_I know CPR," Stinger volunteered._

_Frosty gave a surprised glance over his shoulder at Stinger then scrambled clear, saying, "Get over here, man."_

"_Did you call sickbay?" Kara demanded to know._

"_Yeah," Stinger replied, kneeling beside Lee. "Paramedics are on the way." He clasped his hands together against Lee's chest and began a timed pumping action over Lee's heart. He counted out loud and Kara used the count to time her breaths into Lee's mouth._

_1-2-3-4-5. Breathe. 1-2-3-4-5. Breathe._

_As Stinger counted again, Kara started silently praying. "Lords of Kobol... don't take him! I beg you, please don't take him!" On count, she fitted her lips over Lee's and blew into his mouth. His lips were still warm against hers. "You're not gone yet," she whispered to him. "I'm not letting you go. Now breathe Lee. Just breathe!"_

_Kara didn't bother paying attention to how many times she breathed for Lee. Stopping wasn't an option until he was breathing on his own. Neither of the other pilots made any suggestion of abandoning their efforts either. It was a simple, unspoken understanding; they were not going to give up._

_

* * *

_  
Kara wiped at her face. "Stinger and I did CPR," she explained to Adama. "I'm not sure for how long. We just... we kept going until the paramedics arrived, but I don't think that was more than... I don't know... five minutes or so."

* * *

_Kara didn't register anything in her mind at all other than continuing the task at hand until she was grabbed from behind by Frosty and pulled out of the way. The paramedics had arrived._

"_What happened?" the lead paramedic, Sergeant Kim, asked her. "Lieutenant?"_

"_What?" Kara blinked. She had been staring numbly at Lee's pallid face._

"_What happened to him?" the medic asked again._

"_I-I don't know," she breathed._

_Sgt. Kim looked around at the other pilots. They all shook their heads. "Starbuck just found him like this," Frosty said._

"_Like this? On the floor?"_

"_No," Starbuck replied. "He was in his rack. But he was just... we were just playing cards in the rec room... just a few minutes ago. He walked out without his winnings, so I came to give them to him, and he was already just... laying there."_

"_In his rack? But none of you saw or heard what happened? Anything at all?"_

_Lee's roommates all sheepishly shook their heads. "We were asleep," Stinger said._

_The other medics had already intubated Lee and were using a bag to breathe for him. They were in the process of cutting Lee's undershirts from his body, a defibrillator standing by, charging. One paramedic made the gesture of closing Lee's staring eyes._

_Sgt. Kim dropped down beside Lee and joined his team in the examination. "No outward sign of injury. Which is his locker?" he asked. Frosty pointed out the correct closet door, and the medic began rummaging through._

"_What are you doing?" Kara asked, suddenly defensive over this invasion of Lee's privacy._

"_Was he taking any medications?" the medic asked._

"_What? No, I don't think so," Kara answered._

_Finding nothing, the medic shut the door. "Which rack is his? Where did you find him?"_

_Kara pointed it out. "Up there."_

_The medic stepped onto the ladder and climbed up, crawling around and raking his fingers through the blankets for some sign of... "Shit."_

_

* * *

_  
"That was when they found it," Kara said, her voice barely above a whisper. "The paramedics found it in his rack."

"The Red Needle?" Adama asked grimly.

Kara nodded and her breath caught as her emotions threatened to break loose and send her into uncontrollable tears.

* * *

"_What is it?" Kara asked, glancing between Lee and the medic, who had obviously found something._

"_20 CC's of appenephrine, now!" Sgt. Kim called to his crew. He jumped down from Lee's rack with something in his hand. "Lieutenant, exactly how long ago did you say you were with him in the rec room?"_

"_Just a few minutes," Kara answered. "Why?"_

"_Exactly how many? Time could be critical here!"_

_Kara checked her watch. It had been just barely before 00:00 hours when Lee surrendered the card game. It was now 00:12. "About 12... 12 minutes."_

"_In the rec room, 12 minutes ago," the medic figured. "Did you follow him here right away?"_

"_Yes," Kara confirmed._

"_Considering walking time, that would put the event at roughly 7 minutes ago then. And you started CPR right away?"_

_Frosty answered, "As soon as we got him out of his rack."_

"_What did you find!" Starbuck nearly shouted._

"_Clear!" the paramedics working on Lee called. A moment later, Lee's body convulsed as they sent a shock of electricity jolting through him in the hope of reviving his heart._

_Sgt. Kim opened his hand to show Kara what he had found in Lee's rack. It was a small red cylinder that terminated on one end in a sharp needle. Kara needed no further explanation. She felt the world drop away from under her._

"_No," she groaned. "Oh Lords, no." She clasped her hand over her mouth, trying to resist the sudden urge to be sick._

"_Frak me," Frosty muttered. "He killed himself._

_TBC _


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

"I was sitting right there, right across the table from him all frakking evening, and I didn't see it. I didn't see it coming." Kara had to swallow hard to keep her throat from constricting. "I just thought he was tired."

William Adama put his hands on her shoulders and gave them a gentle squeeze. "It's all right Kara."

She shook her head. "No. It's not. I've known Lee for so long. I've seen him under just about every mood there is, but this was... _different_. And I didn't do anything about it... except maybe make it worse."

"Kara," the commander said gently, "I am certain, that whatever Lee's reasons were for doing this, those reasons do not include you."

Kara suddenly choked up and brought a hand up to cover her eyes. She struggled to suppress a sob and only half-succeeded. Clearly distressed, she said, "I'm not so sure." She took a few deep breaths, then added, "He has been so overworked lately. I don't think you have any idea what a load he's been carrying, stepping up for you... the colonel... helping the President, dealing with the Quorum. And he has been so stressed. I think... I think maybe he really could have used a friend... but all I've done lately was make his job harder. You know... needling him, mouthing off, being a pest... "

"Well, he's used to that from you," Adama said, hoping to sound good humored, but it made Kara flinch instead.

"And _there's_ the problem, isn't it?"

William pulled Kara close and hugged her as she struggled again not to cry. "Kara, I'm sure that you've been much better as a friend lately than I've been as a father," he told her quietly. He saw Kara look up at him with an expression of intermingled doubt and suspicion.

"And you think _that's_ the problem, don't you?" she asked very quietly.

* * *

"_Did you want something Captain?" William Adama asked. He glanced up only briefly at his son before returning his attention to the clipboard in his hands._

"_Doctor Cottle just gave us the good news," Lee said, approaching his father's desk. "Everyone in CIC was very pleased to hear that you'll be back on duty in the morning." He stood watching his father for a few seconds, but upon receiving no response he added, "You must be looking forward to it, seeing as how you've been reading up on every report and operational log coming out of CIC for the last two weeks now."_

"_Well I couldn't expect to resume command having no idea what's been going on, could I?" William asked, flipping over a page and continuing his reading._

"_No Sir," Lee said, then paused out of apparent expectation that his father would stop reading for a moment and look at him. When Adama did not look up, Lee went ahead and said, "I'm certain you're already fully briefed and prepared. The handoff should be no problem at all."_

"_Did you expect it would be a problem, Captain?" William did finally look up at his son, his expression somber and difficult to read._

"_No Sir," Lee replied. "I was merely... expressing my relief that you will soon be back in command."_

"_The crown felt a little heavy did it?" William asked, his tone carrying a bite along with the sarcasm._

_Lee took a slow breath and swallowed before answering. "Exceedingly so Sir."_

"_Tired of the weight?"_

"_Very," Lee said grimly, matching the commander's intense gaze with an equally stern one of his own. _

_William broke eye contact first. He picked up the clipboard again and resumed reading where he'd left off. After several seconds, when Lee remained standing in front of his desk, he gruffly asked, "You've noted your relief to me. Was there something else Captain?"_

_Lee waited a long time before responding. His silence finally prompted his father to look up at him. This time it was Lee who broke from his father's gaze and turned away. "Apparently not," Lee said, his voice disturbingly quiet. He started to walk away._

_

* * *

_  
"Commander?" Kara asked, studying his face closely.

William faced Kara's close scrutiny, but he didn't offer a reply. He dropped his hands from her shoulders and paced a short distance from the sickbay hatchway. Finally he said, "Lee dropped by my quarters yesterday afternoon. We uh..."

"Commander," Dr. Cottle called from the doorway. He beckoned for Adama to follow him.

Abandoning his conversation with Kara, William hurried to follow the doctor. They were headed in the direction of Lee's bed, but came to a stop in the center of the ward before reaching their destination.

"How is he doing?" Adama asked anxiously.

"Not good," Dr. Cottle replied. "We're having a devil of a time getting him stabilized. He's gone into cardiac and pulmonary arrest three times in the last hour. His systems just keep misfiring and shutting down, but that's precisely what the damn Red Needle is supposed to do. We've been forced to put him on full life-support while we pump him full of anti-toxins. Hopefully, the effect of the poison can be neutralized before any permanent damage is done, but that will take several more hours, at best."

"But there is hope?" Adama asked.

"Hope, yes. But he's got a long way to go."

"What are his odds?"

Cottle frowned. "I'm a doctor, not a bookie."

"Then how about an educated guess?" the commander pressed.

"Commander... let me put it this way. The Red Needle is designed to kill, quickly and efficiently. The poison is virulent and deadly. His heart stopped within less than 30 seconds of injection. If the other pilots hadn't initiated CPR as swiftly as they did, keeping blood and oxygen flowing, he would already be brain-dead and on his way to the morgue."

Adama nodded, grimly acknowledging the doctor's words.

Cottle fished around in his pocket and pulled out a crumpled pack of cigarettes. He tapped one cigarette into his hand. "I can't honestly begin to guess whether the captain will pull through this or not. I can only promise to do everything that we can."

"Anything you can do for him, Doc," Adama said quietly. "I'm grateful."

Cottle twirled the cigarette around in his fingers, contemplating it, but not taking any action to light it up. "There is something I need to ask you Commander."

"Yes?"

"Apollo's medical records were not transferred here with him when he dropped in for the decommissioning ceremony. He wasn't supposed to be here long enough for that to be an issue. All I have on him is what I've pieced together during his few brief visits over the past couple of months for the odd bumps and bruises. I haven't even done a full physical on him yet, so I've certainly not had the chance to broach this particular subject with him, which means I have to ask you. Do you happen to know if he previously submitted a living will?"

Adama swallowed. "A living will?"

"Yes," Cottle confirmed. "That or any kind of document that expresses his wishes with regard to the use of extraordinary measures to preserve his life."

"I... I don't know if he ever completed anything like that," Adama said, fighting a tremor in his voice.

Cottle nodded grimly. He tapped the unlit cigarette against his palm. "Did the two of you ever discuss the subject?"

"No," Adama said. "No, we never... Gods, Doc. Is that what we're probably looking at?" A voice at the back of William's mind started protesting,_ "No, this can't be happening. This can't be happening!"_

"It's still too early to determine that yet," Cottle replied. "But since we have been forced to initiate life support, I did have to ask about the living will."

"I understand," Adama whispered.

"You do realize, Commander," Dr. Cottle asked in carefully measured tones, "that without any form of documentation... should it become an issue... the decision will fall to you?"

Adama nodded silently in reply, ignoring the voice in his head that screamed, "_No, no, no!_"

Dr. Cottle inclined his head toward the curtained partition where Lee's bed was hidden. "If you want to visit with him, you can, but we'll have people coming in and out, keeping close tabs on him. So don't expect any privacy."

"Has he been awake at all?"

"Afraid not. It's unlikely that he'll regain consciousness until we've got him stabilized."

"_If you get him stabilized_," Adama thought bleakly.

He approached the curtain surrounding Lee's bed with no small measure of apprehension. He could hear the hum and click of a respirator accompanied by the rhythmic beep of a heart monitor. He tried to brace himself for what he was about to see, though since he'd already had a glimpse, he didn't expect to find it overly shocking. He was wrong. He froze in horror the moment after he pulled the curtain aside.

"_He's already dead_," the voice inside William's head whispered cruelly.

A nurse glanced in the commander's direction then returned her attention to recording Lee's blood pressure reading on his chart. "Commander," she said, acknowledging her superior with a polite nod.

William stepped closer to his son's bed without being aware that his feet were moving. His mind had gone blank, unable to fully comprehend the circumstances. "_That's not Lee. That's not... my boy_," he found himself inexplicably thinking. His Lee was strong and vibrant, with a palpable energy always bubbling just beneath his controlled exterior. The young man William saw lying in the bed was ghostly pale, with tubes running down his throat, into his arms, and under the sheets to parts of his body that Adama didn't even want to think about. There was no energy... no _life_... in this still form. This motionless figure was simply the empty shell of a young man who bore his son's face.

William stepped closer and looked at the young man's pale hand resting atop the blankets near the edge of the bed. The little finger on that hand was just slightly out of proper alignment. "_That's odd_," William thought. "_Lee broke his hand too, when he was in college... playing groundball, I think. The same hand_." He took that limp hand in his own.

"Commander," the nurse said quietly, "I'll give you a minute alone with him." She stepped through the curtain and pulled it closed.

Standing alone within the small partition, William stared numbly at the young man's face. "_This can't be my boy_," his mind whispered, but gradually the pain of reality began to sink in. "Lee?" he finally whispered out loud. His hand closed more firmly around his son's. "I'm here Kiddo. I'm right here."

The curtain was drawn aside a little and the nurse returned, bringing a chair with her. She set it beside Lee's bed. "Here Sir. It's going to be a long night." She also placed a box of tissues on the bedside table. "If you need them," she told him.

"Thank you," he said to her as she passed out of the curtain once more. He caught sight of Kara then, lurking just on the other side of the partition. He beckoned to her, but she shook her head.

"I don't want to intrude," Kara said.

"Don't be silly," he told her. "You're family." He beckoned to her again and after a brief pause she stepped inside the partition. He waved her toward the chair. "You go ahead. I'll find another."

Kara shook her head sharply. "No Sir. Thanks, but I'll only be staying for a minute. I just wanted to see him before I head back."

William watched while Kara drew closer to Lee's bedside, her eyes scanning over his body and growing clouded with tears. She looked down at him for several seconds and her lips trembled, but she made no sound. Then she reached out and tenderly brushed her fingers across his temple. It was such a loving gesture that William was taken by surprise.

He knew that Lee and Kara had been friends for several years, but he now wondered if perhaps their feelings may have gone deeper. He'd never considered it before. In William's mind, Kara was still Zak's girl. Marriage to Zak would have made her Lee's sister. Surely that would prevent them from pursuing a romantic relationship with each other, wouldn't it? Professionally, it would also be a mistake. Lee was her immediate supervisor. Military regulations would forbid any undue familiarity between them. The extent of their close friendship was already stretching the rules. The soft touch that he was, William had let it slide so far, recognizing that Lee and Kara's friendship had formed long before they had ended up working together, and they were family after all.

As William watched Kara's face, however, he began to feel a great sadness for both of his children: Lee and Kara. There was definitely more going on here than mere sisterly concern, but that depth of emotion could never be realized... even if Lee did survive.

Kara sniffed and blinked to clear her eyes. "I'd better be going," she said tightly.

"Kara, why don't you just stay?" Adama suggested.

"I can't," she claimed. "I uh... I have a lot of work to take care of... since Lee isn't going to be back on the job as CAG tomorrow after all." She offered her commander a sheepish smile. "I... sort of let things slide lately, you know, thinking that Lee would be back and he could... But I guess I have to get my butt back in gear now."

"It isn't even 0200 hours yet Kara," the commander said gently. "If... you really don't feel that you can stay right now, at least go get some sleep. I promise I won't ding you if your CAP report is late."

"Thank you Sir," she replied quietly. "But..." her voice faded off and she had to clear her throat. She looked once more sorrowfully at Lee. "Please let me know... if there is any change," she requested, haltingly.

"I will," he promised.

Kara walked away, visibly struggling for control. William stared after her sadly for several seconds. There was no longer any doubt in his mind. Kara was in love with Lee, though she didn't want anyone else to know it. She undoubtedly realized what an impossible situation it was, but that didn't diminish her feelings. She had loved Zak, and lost him. Now she had fallen for Zak's brother... who had just attempted suicide. His heart went out to Kara. She still carried such a burden of guilt over Zak's death, and from the way she had just recently recounted finding Lee, William knew she blamed herself somehow for the fact that Lee tried to kill himself within mere minutes after parting from her company.

William dragged his gaze painfully back toward his comatose son. As he stared at Lee's ashen face, a cold realization struck him and he felt a sudden surge of intense anger. Lee had _chosen _this!

"Why?" he hissed angrily at his son. "Why would you do this? Did it occur to you at all what it would do to Kara... to find you like that? You knew damn well she would! How could you do that? What the frak were you thinking Lee?"

He leaned toward Lee and demanded to know, "Why?"

Yet even as he asked the question, the anger was draining away. William already knew the answer. He had known the answer since the moment Saul Tigh had told him the horrible news of what Lee had done. After all, Lee had given him the answer, just hours ago.

* * *

"_Was there something else Captain?"_

_After a long silence that prompted his father to finally look up at him, Lee broke from his father's gaze and turned away. "Apparently not," Lee said, his voice disturbingly quiet. He started to walk away._

_William was taken aback by Lee's tone of voice. He sounded so... _drained_. Then the commander noted that Lee's hands appeared to be shaking. "Captain," he called to Lee. Lee stopped but didn't turn back around. William set the clipboard down and removed his glasses. "Was there something else?" he asked again._

_Lee didn't move for several seconds, but then he abruptly turned to face his father. "I just want to know, how long do you intend to hate me? Because frankly Dad, I'm too damn tired to keep this up anymore. If this is going to go on forever, just say so."_

_William almost felt as though Lee had slapped him across the face. He pushed himself up from his chair, carefully. His wounds were well healed and didn't cause him any more pain, but caution of movement had become almost instinctual over the past several weeks. "Son," he said quietly, "I have never hated you."_

_Lee appeared quite dubious. "What is it then? Just eternal bitter disappointment?"_

_William closed his eyes for a moment, trying to compose his thoughts. He walked around to the front of his desk and regarded his son coolly. "Perhaps, if you were to show some sign of regret for your actions..."_

"_I could ask the same of you," Lee said grimly._

_William nodded. "And therein lies our problem."_

_Lee flinched slightly. "No Dad. It's your problem. I don't give a frak for what happened weeks ago. It's over. Done. As far as I'm concerned, all that matters is where we go from here. So just tell me, what happens now? Just more of the same? More running? More fighting? More disapproval from you? Tell me Dad, should I bother waking up tomorrow? Cause if this is all there's ever going to be..."_

"_Would you prefer surrendering to the Cylons?" William asked sharply. "Then of course there will be more running and more fighting. Until we've gone beyond their reach, however far that might need to be, we will continue to run and to fight, and you damn well know it."_

_Lee's shoulder sagged wearily. "Don't you ever just get tired of it? Did you ever feel like you're trying to run straight into a wall? Pushing, and running, until your legs are ready give way... and the wall just won't budge? You never seem to get anywhere."_

"_You've had a taste of command," William said, with a touch of smugness._

"_How do you keep doing it?"_

"_You just do. You don't give yourself a choice."_

"_That simple huh?" Lee shook his head._

"_Command is never simple," William told him. "Did you expect it would be?"_

"_I expected not to have to find out so soon," Lee said._

_William regarded his son sternly. "Well, that wall might not have been quite so implacable if you hadn't built it yourself."_

_Lee's forehead creased in confusion. "What do you mean?"_

"_Nothing is ever so formidable as the obstacles you place in your own path," William said. "Certain _obstacles_ had been removed, if you recall. You are the one who put them back in place."_

_Lee replied crossly, "President Roslin is damn near the one and only person who has been of any help to me at all through this."_

"_Maybe that's because you chose the wrong allies."_

_Lee let out a groan of frustration. "Gods, Dad, do we really have to keep doing this? The coup failed. It's over, but tomorrow you'll be right back on the job. Can't you let it go?"_

_William's expression turned dark. "It failed because of the treachery of someone I trusted."_

_Lee asked tentatively, "Are you talking about the Cylon, or me?"_

_William crossed his arms and regarded his son sternly. "Now why ever would you even think I might be talking about you?"_

_Lee took a deep, unsteady breath. His voice was barely audible when he whispered. "It wasn't me who committed _treason_. I'm not the one who betrayed my oath."_

_Without even thinking about what he was doing, William found himself throwing a spiteful punch to strike at his son. Lee reacted even faster than his father, throwing up an arm to block William's swing and shoving the older man back. They stood facing each other, each glaring with equal intensity._

_Lee's next reaction startled William. Something within Lee just seemed to snap. The captain spun around, grabbed a straight-backed chair from where it sat in front of the commander's desk and heaved it across the room. The chair smashed into the far wall and clattered to the deck, taking with it several books and artifacts from a shelf. Then Lee glared at his father with a fury William had never seen before._

"_You really want to mix it up with me? Do you? No pretense of sparring this time? Gloves off?" Lee stared unblinkingly with fire in his eyes, waiting for his father to answer the challenge. When William made no move, Lee shouted, "No? Then for Gods' sake, stop it! I didn't come to fight with you. Why should we bother fighting the Cylons when we spend even more time fighting each other? I'm tired of it! I'm tired of you, of the Quorum, of your drunken XO and his floozy of a conniving wife! Frak it, maybe I should have just let the Cylons wipe us out after you got shot. At least this entire nightmare would be over!"_

"_Well then it's a damn good thing you won't be in a command-level position for much longer," William muttered, feeling the adrenaline rush still coursing through his body from the near brawl with his son._

"_Well, that much we can agree on," Lee growled. "It's yours. I'm done."_

"_Then I guess that will be all, won't it Captain?"_

_Lee stared at his father and the tension completely drained from his body. A shadow seemed to fall over his face, altering it utterly from the fierce anger of a minute earlier to hopeless resignation. "Yes Sir," he said finally. "That's all."_

"_Then you're dismissed." William said bitterly. He turned his back on Lee and strode back to his desk. Behind him he heard Lee's quiet voice._

"_Goodbye Dad."_

_William didn't look back to see his son leave._

_

* * *

_  
In hindsight, it was so frakking clear. Lee was right on the edge when he walked into his father's quarters, seeking a reason to step back from the cliff. But the olive branch he'd extended was crushed, along with all hope. William pressed his eyes shut, wincing at the memory of the change that had come over Lee's face as all hope was vanquished. William knew... that was the moment when Lee made the decision to end his own life. After that, Lee had returned to the CIC and finished out the last of his duties, then gave in to Kara long enough to say goodbye to his pilots. Then he'd retired to his rack... and...

"I'm sorry Lee," he whispered. He settled a trembling hand on Lee's brow. The contrast in skin tones between William's hand and Lee's forehead was startling. Lee had inherited his mother's fair skin tone, rather than his father's swarthier coloring, but _this_ ashen tone was not natural. It was frightening.

"I'm so sorry Son," William breathed. "You tried to tell me, didn't you? You came to me looking for help, but I didn't understand."

The curtain was drawn back again and another nurse stepped inside. William straightened up and turned his head so that the nurse could not see his face. He grabbed a tissue from the box on the bedside table and wiped hurriedly at his eyes.

The nurse did a quick check on the flow of Lee's IV. Satisfied, she looked over at the commander. "Can I get you anything Sir? Some coffee perhaps?"

William cleared his throat and replied, "Yes. Thank you, I'd appreciate that."

"Cream or sugar?"

"Neither. Just black, thanks."

"I'll be right back."

William was alone with Lee once more. He pulled the chair up toward the head of the bed and sat down. Leaning forward slightly he reached over and rested one hand on Lee's shoulder. For some reason, he just needed that physical contact with his son. The nurse returned shortly with a mug of strong black coffee that made William wince, but he thanked her for it anyway.

"Sergeant... Wallace, isn't it?" he asked her.

"Yes Sir."

"Sergeant Wallace, how long have you been a medic?"

"Eight years Commander," she replied.

"Have you ever treated anyone for this _condition _before?"

"No Sir. I haven't."

"Have you heard of any other cases before?"

The nurse shook her head. "No Sir. This is the first time I've ever head of someone who actually used the, uh, Red Needle."

"I see. Thank you."

"Sorry I couldn't be more informative."

"That's all right." William was disappointed, but he could hardly blame the nurse. He had hoped to hear some reassurance that with prompt medical treatment, the Red Needle was not necessarily fatal. William knew however, that those unfortunate pilots who in the past were faced with using the Red Needle were in dire circumstances where death was already assured and medical help would never reach them. After the end of the Cylon War, 40 years ago, the Red Needles continued to be issued to pilots, but under peacetime circumstances, no pilot would have any cause to use them. It was not at all hard to understand why the Galactica's medics would have no experience at treating someone in Lee's predicament.

The difficult part for William was that he had no idea how to deal with this situation. Should he hope for the best, or prepare for the worst? He knew that Dr. Cottle would advise him to do both. Doctors always did fall back on that cliché. William wanted to pray, but he didn't know what to pray for. Should he pray for Lee's speedy recovery? Or should he pray for the strength to face Lee's imminent death?

His hand squeezed Lee's shoulder. The muscles were slack and still beneath his fingers, but there was warmth there. Life, however faint, had not left Lee entirely. William realized then that there was only one prayer he could make, and he could not waste his prayers upon himself.

Unmindful of Sergeant Wallace's presence, the commander bent is head and silently prayed, "Lords of Kobol I beg of you a favor this day. Apollo, God of Healing, this young man here before you... he is your namesake... and he is in need of your mercy. He is strong... and good... but he has lost his hope in life and that has led him to this moment where he needs your help. Please heal him. I beg you. He is my son, and I... have failed him in so many ways, for so many years. I have no right to ask that he be returned to _me_... but those of us who remain, your children of Kobol, _all _have need of him. He has brought honor to your name, Apollo, and will continue to do so, I know. He will make you proud. Please bestow your healing touch upon him. Please, save my son!"

William's silent prayer ended as he was unable to withhold his tears any longer. He dropped his head to the edge of Lee's bed, clutching his son's shoulder, and succumbed to the depth of his fear and grief.

Dr. Cottle glanced over at Lt. Thrace again. She was pacing around in circles again by the door to sickbay. He shook his head, and replaced the medical chart he'd been reading at the foot of a patient's bed. He strolled to the door and leaned against the bulkhead.

Thrace looked at the doctor who was watching her with a tired, reproachful look. "What?" she asked crossly.

"The act of walking tends to be much more effective if you only try to head in one direction at a time. Coming or going, Lieutenant? Make up your mind."

"Frak you," she mumbled, running a hand through her hair.

"20 years ago I might have considered that an appealing offer, but now it just makes me tired." He took a crumpled pack of cigarettes from his pocket and tapped one lone cigarette into his hand.

Kara crossed her arms and quizzed the doctor sternly. "What kind of a chance does he really have?"

"I'm not a bookie."

"I heard you tell the commander that," she sneered. "Now I want to know what you _didn't_ tell him."

"Such as?"

Kara asked the doctor in steely tones, "What do you _think _about all this? Do you think he has a chance to pull through or not?"

The doctor tapped at the unlit cigarette in his fingers. "I think... that it's up to him. It all depends on how hard he's willing to fight. If he makes it, it will be because he _really wants _to."

Kara stared incredulously. "You do know... don't you... that he did this to himself?"

Dr. Cottle offered her a smirk, still fiddling with the cigarette. "And what does that tell you?"

"You're an ass," Kara growled. Then she added crossly, "Are you going to smoke that thing or not?"

"Eventually."

"Trying to give them up?" she asked skeptically.

"Running out," he quipped.

"So you're tempted as hell to just light up... but you want to save it for the right moment."

"Something like that."

"Tell you what Doc. I happen to know where there's a nice little stash of those babies. You pull Lee through this... and I'll snag you a whole case full."

Cottle chortled. "Now there is an offer I would consider taking you up on. However, cigarettes or not, everyone here will do everything possible to save him."

Kara nodded solemnly. "I know. You're still an ass of course... but you've got a hell of a crew here Doc... and you're not too shabby at the job yourself."

"Well, I can die a happy man now. So what's it going to be?"

"What?"

"Coming or going?"

Kara sighed. "Going... for now. But I'll be back. And if anything happens..."

"I'll make sure you're notified."

"Thank you."

The night passed with agonizing slowness for William Adama. Weariness weighed heavily upon him, but he refused to succumb. He would not miss what could be the last few precious hours he had left with his son. The medics were coming and going every few minutes, checking monitors, injecting more medicine into Lee's IV, and making notes on Lee's chart. A few times the rhythm on the heart monitor skipped and a red light registered on the console along with an alarm. Dr. Cottle and one of the nurses would appear within seconds, intently studying the readouts and William would have to step back, breaking contact with his son so that the Cardiac Support Unit could apply a mild jolt of electricity to regulate Lee's heart. Each time it happened the life support units did their job and successfully restored function within less than 10 seconds. Through it all, the hum and click of the respirator droned steadily.

By the time morning rolled around and Lt. Gaeta announced reveille to the crew, William felt utterly drained. He sat watching his son, holding his limp hand, knowing that the machines alone were keeping his boy alive. William had prayed to Apollo over and over throughout the night, but so far there was no sign that the Kobolian Lord had heard. He could not yet, however, even allow himself to ponder what might be required if the deadly poison had already damaged Lee's systems beyond repair. Dr. Cottle had told him during the night that it would take time for the anti-toxins to do their work, but he'd never said how much time.

"_How long_?" William wondered. "_How much longer before we know_?" He glanced at the nurse who was checking Lee's blood pressure. "How does it look?" he asked.

"Same as last time," she reported. "He's been holding pretty steady for the past hour and a half."

William felt a twinge of hope. "Does that mean he's stabilizing?" His eyes flicked over to the heart monitor. It _had _been a while since the last alarm event.

"It might," the nurse replied with caution.

William squeezed Lee's hand, sitting up a little straighter. "That's it Lee. I know you can do it."

To William's total amazement he felt Lee's hand tighten around his own. Hope surged. "Lee?" William smiled excitedly, rising from his chair. Still grasping Lee's hand he leaned over his son. "Son, can you hear me?"

Lee was indeed no longer still. His body was shifting, twitching. But something didn't seem quite right. This wasn't just the movement of a man reviving from a coma.

"He's seizing," the nurse declared. She reached up and pressed an alert button on a console. Within seconds two more nurses arrived. William was crowded away from Lee's bed, forcing him to reluctantly release his son's hand. Dr. Cottle appeared, blinking tired eyes, but quickly taking full assessment of the situation.

Words flew back and forth amongst the medics, but William paid no head to what they said. All sound faded to a muffled hum in his mind. He stood transfixed, staring numbly. Dr. Cottle inserted another syringe into Lee's IV. Lee's body convulsed. The red light on the heart monitor flicked on. A crash cart was wheeled up beside Lee's bed in anticipation that the CSU would not be sufficient this time.

"_He's already dead_," the vicious little voice in William's mind whispered again.

"Shut up," William snarled in reply. One of the nurses gave the commander a curious glance, but then returned his attention to their patient.

William suddenly strode forward and elbowed his way to Lee's bedside. He vaguely heard the medics protesting and asking him to step back, but he ignored them. He leaned down, reaching around the respirator tube to take Lee's face between his hands. He had to hold on to Lee's head firmly as the convulsions continued.

"You don't want to do this Lee," William said firmly. "I know it's all been the shits lately, and I haven't made things any easier, but I promise you Son, things will get better."

"Commander, please..." A nurse tried to urge William back from the bed, but the commander shrugged him off and refused to budge.

"I know you're tired, but you can't give up. You have to fight now. You have to fight hard, but you're not alone Lee. It's seemed that way to you hasn't it? But you're not. There _are_ people here who love you, and we will help you through this. We will._ I _will. But you have to come back to us Son. You have to come back."

William didn't even take note, but as he spoke to his son the convulsions gradually eased away and Lee's body became limp and still once more. He leaned over farther and placed a gentle kiss upon Lee's forehead. "I love you Son," he whispered. "Please come back."

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Starbuck gave a look around the briefing room, taking inventory of the expressions on the faces of all her pilots. They were sharply attentive this morning, much more so than usual. She knew they were waiting for news. "Good morning," she announced.

The reply came back from the group as expected, "Good morning Sir."

"All right," Starbuck declared, "first order of business kiddies: rumor control. Before the speculation and gossip get totally out of hand -- and you_ all_ know what I'm talking about -- these are the_ facts_."

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"I'm only going to say this once, so listen up people," Chief Tyrol announced to his deck crew, who were all huddled around him for their morning assignments. "Forget the gossip. These are the facts. Shortly after midnight last night, Captain Adama was discovered to have attempted suicide." 

There were several gasps and shocked exclamations. Tyrol saw Crewman Specialist Cally clasp a hand over her mouth. He continued in as business-like a manner as possible.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"Paramedics succeeded in partially resuscitating him at the scene before transporting him to sickbay," Starbuck announced with calmness in her voice that was in total contrast to the turmoil raging in her gut. "He remains in critical condition at this time." The grim silence in the briefing room was almost overwhelming.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"As you know, Commander Adama was to have resumed active duties this morning," Tyrol said. "But as you might imagine, Colonel Tigh will remain in active command of Galactica until further notice." Disgruntled looks, groans, and murmurs of disappointment circulated through the crowd on the flight deck.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"Obviously," Starbuck informed her pilots, "you will also have to continue putting up with_ me_ as acting-CAG for a while longer. So... are there any burning questions still lingering on the subject, or any wild absurdities that I can dispel?" The pilots looked around at each other, shifting in their seats. Kat finally raised her hand. "Go ahead Kat," Starbuck told her. 

"It's not that I really want to know, but... you know, rumors and all that..."

"What's the question Kat?"

"Did he leave a note Sir... explaining why?"

Kara was glad that she was standing behind a podium, so that none of the pilots could see that her hands were shaking. "No," she said simply. "There was no note."

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"How did he do it?" Specialist Tyler asked. "Bullet in the head? Overdose? What?" 

Cally spun around toward her crewmate. "You morbid asshole," she spat at him.

Tyler replied defensively, "Hey, we're hearing all kinds of shit. I just want to know..."

"You want pictures and diagrams too?" Cally interrupted harshly.

"Cally...Tyler, knock it off!" Chief Tyrol called out, declaring an end to the dispute. "Actually Tyler, I'm glad you asked, though you could have done it with a little more tact. The whole point here is to put an end to the rumors. The fact is that Captain Adama used the Red Needle from his Mark VII Viper. Now, we have no idea when he removed it and how long he's been carrying it around, waiting to use it. Typically, inventory tracking of personal gear, survival supplies and such, including the Red Needle has been left up to the pilots. We take care of the ships. The pilots take care of themselves. Well, as of now, that kind of thinking is over with people.

"If you take a look at your pre- and post-flight checklists, you will notice a few more items have been added. From now on, we will be backstopping all of our pilots on the inventories of their personal flight gear. It will be up to us, just as much as them, to make sure they have everything they need before they leave this ship, and everything is in its proper place when they get back. And don't even think about giving me the whine-and-moan over this! I know damn well how much we already have to do! Those pilots put their lives on the line every frakking time they launch from this ship. They put their lives on the line for_ us_! Captain Adama has personally flown over_ 400_ missions, protecting us, in just the few short months since he first set foot on this ship. Well, I'm not going to allow even one more pilot to die because we weren't willing to take a few extra minutes with our checklists.

"Now, I know there's been a lot of paranoia since we found out that the Cylons look human. There's been a lot of talk and grumbling about how it's every man for himself... about how you can't trust anybody. Well frak that! From now on, we are_ all_ looking out for each other. Every one of us. No more just looking out for #1. 'Cause the sad fact is... that if we'd been doing a better job looking out for each other before now... we would have noticed... that there was a Cylon walking around right among us." The Chief had to stop and swallow his own visible regret. After a deep breath he added, "And we would have noticed that the Red Needle was missing from Apollo's Viper. If we'd just been paying attention, we could have prevented tragedy for _two_ men, to whom we all owe our lives."

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"Hotdog" Costanza asked, "So, what's the prognosis?" 

"Uncertain," Starbuck answered. "Apollo is currently on life support, but there is hope that the poison can be neutralized enough for his body to resume function." Kara cleared her throat before continuing. "Basically, it's a wait and see situation right now. Any of you who may be so inclined as to offer a prayer on Apollo's behalf, I'm sure the Commander would appreciate it."

"_And so would I_," Kara thought to herself. "_So would I_."

"No more questions?" Starbuck quizzed her squadron. No more hands were raised. "Good," she said. "'Cause we all still have a job to do.

* * *

Dr. Cottle finished securing the bandage around the crewman's hand, offering the young man a withering scowl. "Didn't your mother ever tell you not to run while carrying sharp objects?" 

"Yes Sir," the young crewman replied, wincing. "But these days, Chief Tyrol outranks Mom."

"Then at least try harder not to fall down," Cottle grumped. "Keep that dry and come back in two days." He sent the crewman off with a glower then turned to see who was next in line. "You again?"

President Roslin wasn't in the mood to be baited into a verbal sparring match. "Good morning to you too," she said simply. "I'm here to inquire about Captain Adama. I just heard the news a short while ago. Is it true?"

"Depends on what you heard," Cottle replied dryly.

Laura crossed her arms, looking very troubled. "Was it really suicide?"

"No," Cottle told her.

"No?" Her expression marginally brightened.

"It was_ attempted_ suicide."

Laura rolled her eyes. "For Lords' sake Doctor, just talk to me straight, please. It was reported to me that he used some kind of suicide_ needle_?"

Cottle nodded. "It's referred to as the Red Needle. All pilots are issued one."

"Why?"

"Some people would consider a quick, relatively painless death as a preferable alternative to slow, agonizing torture."

Laura closed her eyes to hold her temper in check. "What I meant was, why did he do it?"

"You'll have to ask him that,_ if_ he wakes up."

"_Will_ he wake up?"

"I don't know."

Laura spoke haltingly, and uncertainly, still unable to fully comprehend the circumstances. "And... you are certain that's what happened to him... that he really used this... Red...?"

Cottle frowned at the President. "He was found in his rack in a state of full cardiac and pulmonary arrest only minutes after leaving the rec room. A Red Needle was found in his rack by paramedics... used. We have confirmed that the used needle has traces of his blood on it, and the Chief did verify that the Needle from the captain's Mark VII Viper is missing. The welt from the injection point is still visible on his right forearm and he is most definitely suffering the effects of andropine poisoning. What does the math tell you?"

The President still appeared skeptical. "Did anyone see him use it?"

"No," Cottle replied. "Lieutenant Thrace came across him just after the fact."

"Then we know that he was injected with this needle... but we really don't know how."

The doctor shook his head dismissively. "Whatever. My job is still the same."

"Has anyone called for an investigation?"

"I don't know. That_ isn't_ my job."

Roslin pondered the situation, and then asked, "Can I see him, just for a minute?"

"Station 15," the doctor told her, pointing toward the curtained partition. "But... he already has company."

"Commander Adama," she guessed. "Has he been here long?"

"Aside from a quick trip to the head about an hour ago, he hasn't left."

"At all?"

Dr. Cottle shook his head. "Won't budge. Stubborn old bastard."

The President walked toward station 15, hugging her arms about herself. She stepped around the edge of the curtain, which had been left drawn slightly open. The commander was in there, seated and leaning his head wearily against one hand, his elbow propped on the edge of the bed. His other hand was settled lightly on his son's arm. Laura just watched the commander for several seconds, and for the first time since she'd met him, she saw no sign of the stalwart military leader. This was simply a father, anxious and afraid for the well-being of his child.

Laura cleared her throat lightly to announce her presence before she stepped inside the curtained partition. "I don't mean to intrude," she said gently. "I just wanted to see how he's doing." She stepped up to the side of the captain's bed opposite from where the commander sat. An expression of deep concern fell over her face. "Has he been awake at all?" she asked.

"No," William Adama answered hoarsely. He watched warily while Laura Roslin reached a hand down and gently stroked Lee's forehead. Resentment began to simmer beneath his calm demeanor.

"When Billy told me the news," she said quietly, "I thought it had to be some sick joke at first... except that Billy would never joke about something like this. I just couldn't believe it." She still couldn't believe it. Captain Apollo had always been so strong, even when everything and everyone else around him was falling to pieces. But now her brave, young champion looked so utterly frail and helpless that it broke her heart.

She shook her head. "I saw him just yesterday morning," she said.

"Did you?" Adama muttered.

"Yes," she replied. "He was tired... very tired. He's been carrying an overwhelming burden lately, but... he seemed all right, hopeful even. He was so relieved that you were coming back on the job and he'd be able to hand off some of the work load soon. I thought he was looking forward to it. Gods, I had no idea he might be hurting so much."

"Apparently you don't know him as well as you'd like to think," Adama said bitterly.

Laura looked across at the commander. She hadn't wanted to cross swords with him, but she'd never been one to cower away either. "So you_ expected_ this to happen, did you?" she asked with a notable twinge of sarcasm. "You, of course, know him so well; you_ must_ have been waiting in anticipation for this."

William glared and slowly rose to his feet. "Get your hands off him," he growled. "And from now on stay away from him. He's done with you."

Laura faced Adama sternly and said, "That's not for you to decide."

"Like hell it's not."

"Like hell indeed! Captain Apollo is a grown man."

"His name is_ Lee_."

"And_ Lee_ will decide for himself where he goes and who he sees. Who the hell do you think you are that you_ still_ believe you have the right to single-handedly take over control of everyone's life?"

"Not everyone, but I do have a say when it comes to my son."

"Only so far as he agrees with you. For the rest, he'll make up his own mind, which he_ does do,_ in case you've failed to notice!"

"You are not his mother!"

Laura's eyes opened wide and she let out an abrupt laugh. "Thank you for the revelation." Then the laughter faded and she piercingly asked, "But since when were you ever a father?"

If Lee's bed hadn't stood between them, William knew he would have taken a swing at this audacious woman right now. Instead, he clenched his fist in fury and just glared.

Laura faced him without flinching, but her voice dropped considerably in volume. "You're right, I didn't have any idea he was considering this... but don't blame it on me that _you_ didn't either. Neither one of us did anything to save him when we had the chance."

"Children..." Dr. Cottle interrupted the argument. "That will be enough bickering. Both of you, knock it off right now, or take it outside."

"It's all right Doctor," the President said calmly. "I'll be going now. The Commander can stay and look after his son, for a change." Before walking away, however, she leaned down and gave Lee a kiss on his forehead, saying gently, "Rest up and get strong, Captain Apollo. I know that you can."

The commander didn't bother looking after the President as she left. He stood staring at Lee's somnolent face with a churning turmoil of emotions fighting for dominance in his gut. Anger. Betrayal. Guilt. Failure. In the end, it was Fear that won out. He sat back down, clasping his son's hand tightly. As much as he might have liked to pretend otherwise, William knew in his heart that Laura Roslin was NOT the great barrier standing between him and his son. William had laid the foundations for that barrier himself, when Lee was still only a child, and long, long before Laura Roslin ever entered their lives. Over the years, both father and son had built up that wall, until it became so tall that they could barely see or hear each other on the other side. So William sat clutching Lee's hand in deep fear that he would lose his son before ever managing to break down that wall and set things right.

* * *

"Cally... what are you doing?" 

Specialist Cally flipped up her welding mask and glanced back over her shoulder to see the Chief peering at her from around a rack in the tool room. "I'm... making something."

"I can see that," the Chief said stepping closer. "What are you making... other than a mess of course?"

Cally had a couple of piles of metal tubing, various bolts, screws, and an assortment of metal scraps lumped onto the floor in front of her where she was sitting. "Well... if this works... it should look like a uh... a bouquet of flowers."

Tyrol's eyebrows lifted. "Flowers?"

"Well we don't have any real ones to pick, and we can't just call the florist now can we?" She flipped the mask back down, and fired up the welding torch.

Tyrol crouched down behind her and tapped her shoulder. "Cally?"

She flipped the mask up again. "What?"

"_Flowers_?"

After a brief hesitation she said, "For Captain Apollo."

Tyrol looked a long time at Cally's face, and then he just nodded. "Just clean up when you're done," he said, pushing himself back to his feet.

Cally settled the mask back in place and returned to her artistic labors.

* * *

Laura greeted each member of the Quorum's Finance and Economics committee as they joined her on Colonial One: Scorpia's Eladio Puasha, Sagitarron's Tom Zarek, Libra's Maree Santini, and Picon's Elliot Martin. They gathered into what had been the upper level passenger lounge of the Colonial transport. The lounge now served as the President's conference room. Settling into plush leather chairs, Laura Roslin passed a small stack of papers to each member of the committee. 

"I've added one item to the agenda that was sent to each of you yesterday," Laura told them. "We've had another incident of inaccurate inventories being reported by a fleet vessel to the Resource Management Team. I think we need to look into the prospect of centralizing this function sooner that we'd originally planned. The probability that vital supplies are being secretly hoarded throughout the fleet is looking more and more likely."

"That's going to ruffle a lot of feathers," Puasha said. "People tend to get very territorial when they have very little left."

"There can't be any distinction any longer between the have's and the have-not's," Tom Zarek said. "We are all in the same dire circumstance now. What belongs to one must belong to all."

"Property ownership is not a crime," Puasha countered.

"Gentlemen," Roslin interjected, "I realize this is a complex issue, but it also resides at the _end_ of our agenda for today, and we have a lot of previous business to attend to first. The charts that I have just provided for you contain the survey results that were requested last week. Please take a minute to look them over and we will try to answer any question you may have."

The committee members all shuffled through the stack of papers the President had provided them, all except Tom Zarek. "Pardon me Madame President," Zarek said, "before we get too invested in the committee's work this morning and it slips my mind, I was hoping that you might be willing to do me a favor."

"A favor?" Laura Roslin asked, keeping her face as neutral as possible.

"Yes," Zarek replied. "Commander Adama remains reluctant to accept direct calls from the Astral Queen, so I was rather hoping that you would be so kind as to extend to the Commander my deepest condolences over the tragic loss of his son."

"Pardon me?" Maree Santini of Libra inquired, "The Commander's son has died?"

"Yes," Zarek told her and the other stunned members of the committee. "Captain Lee Adama died last night, of apparent suicide." The committee all expressed shock at the news. "I assume," Zarek added, "that under the circumstances the Commander has delayed his return to active military service?" He looked to the President for confirmation.

Laura Roslin measured her tone very carefully. "Colonel Tigh does remain in active command at this time due to an incident on Galactica last night, however your condolences are unwarranted Mr. Zarek. Captain Adama is very much alive."

"Alive?" Zarek questioned her.

"Thank the Gods," Maree Santini declared.

"Yes," Roslin confirmed. "I saw him myself just a few hours ago." She kept her expression as neutral as possible, while studying Tom Zarek's face intently. "Who told you that he was dead... and by suicide no less?" she asked.

Zarek replied smoothly, "It was a rumor, and a false one apparently. Well, thank the Gods. I should know better than to buy into gossip so easily."

Roslin looked around at the rest of the committee. "None of the rest of you heard any such rumors?" None of them had. Laura smiled, masking her suspicion. "Well, that's good. Apparently the gossip mill has been limited to the Astral Queen on this matter. But, should any of you receive any inquiries, please pass along that Captain Adama was involved in an undetermined event last night, which is still being investigated, and he is undergoing medical treatment , but he is indeed alive and likely to remain so."

She picked up her stack of briefing charts, still watching Zarek out of the corner of her eye. "Now, as for the disposition of action items assigned at our last meeting, please turn to page 3."

* * *

William watched the dancing light on the monitor that tracked his son's slow heartbeat. The beep accompanying each peak on the display had blended hours ago with the quiet whir and click of the respirator into a commonplace soundtrack of William's existence. For hours he had scarcely heard the sounds at all, but now as the day drew to a close, and the moment of truth drew near, he was vitally cognizant of all the indicators that his son still lived... for the moment. 

"Commander?" Doctor Cottle said delicately. "We can wait a while longer yet before going ahead with this. There's no necessity to do it now."

"Would it change the outcome?" William asked.

"Probably not."

The commander nodded. "It's been 24 hours. If the anti-toxins were going to work, and enable him to live without the machines, they'd have done their job by now. That's what you said."

"Yes," the doctor confirmed.

"Then there's no point in delaying, is there?"

"You've had no sleep, and hardly anything to eat since this all started. You're exhausted. You don't have to go ahead and face this right now." The doctor placed a hand on his commander's arm, and felt the trembling that Adama was attempting to conceal. "Get some sleep. This can wait."

"No," Adama shook his head. "This isn't about me, Doc."

"It won't hurt him any to put this off until at least morning."

William offered the doctor a tired smirk. "Do you really think I'll be able to sleep... while anticipating this?"

The doctor studied his commander's face. "No, I suppose not."

William drew a deep, shaking breath. "Then... take him off the machines," he said, with the gravity of a man condemning his child to death.

Dr. Cottle nodded. Adama stepped back from Lee's bed and Sergeant Wallace stepped in to assist while the doctor threw a switch, disabling any assistance from the respirator. The clicking and whirring ceased. The doctor reached over and disconnected the respirator from the tube extending down Lee's throat.

Adama crossed his arms to still the trembling. He stared at Lee, anxiously watching and awaiting the inevitable.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Doctor Cottle and Sergeant Wallace stood patiently, intently watching all of the monitors by Lee's bed. William Adama couldn't look at the readouts. He couldn't tear his eyes from his son's face.

"Come on, Lee," he whispered. "Please..."

No one said a word for nearly a full minute, and then Dr. Cottle gave a satisfied nod. "So far so good," he said. "Just a brief catch when we switched him off of support, but... he's holding steady, breathing on his own."

"It's barely been a minute," William commented. "He was stable for nearly two hours before his heart glitched the last time."

"True," Dr. Cottle admitted. "But that last event was over six hours ago, and it was a faulty rhythm, not full cardiac failure. Sergeant Wallace will be in hover-mode here for the next 30 minutes, just in case. After that, Commander, assuming that he's still stable, I want you to call it a night."

Adama just walked back up to the bed and squeezed his son's hand. "How long are you going to leave the tubes in?"

"Until morning," Dr. Cottle replied. "Just a precaution in case we do need to hook him back up in a hurry."

"You sound pretty confident Doc," William commented.

"Call it optimistic," the doctor said.

"You? Optimistic?"

"Wouldn't be the first time in the history of the universe."

* * *

Kara rubbed her eyes and tried to read the same paragraph again, for at least the 5th time. She'd been awake for over 36 hours now, and was bone-weary, but she just couldn't force herself to return to quarters and try to sleep. She had barely managed to step into the room in order to change her clothes after flying the CAP that afternoon. Every second she spent in there she was haunted by the images and sounds of a nightmare. Only, this nightmare was not a mere dream. It had been real. 

_Lee was lying in his rack, but he was not asleep. His eyes were open. She grabbed his hand to deposit the lump of cubits into his palm, but Lee's hand was limp. His entire arm was slack. She put her hand on his shoulder, shaking him. His head slumped to one side, his eyes still staring blankly. Her fingers pressed anxiously on the side of his throat, searching for a pulse. There was none. His chest was still._

_Lee was dead._

"Kara?"

Starbuck jumped in her seat, startled nearly out of her skin. Her pulse was racing from the vivid, horrific memory. Jarring herself back to reality she looked up to see Commander Adama standing next to her. He was looking at her, very concerned.

"I had a feeling you'd still be awake," he said. "You all right?"

She composed herself quickly. "Fine." She waved at the stack of folders on the table in front of her. "As you can see, I'm still trying to play catch up. It's amazing how fast this stuff piles up, isn't it?"

"Multiplies like magic," he commented, taking a seat beside her in the quiet rec room. "Did you get any sleep at all last night?"

She considered his question, but in reply she asked one of her own. "Did you?"

"No. But I'm about to try for tonight. So should you."

She blinked. Just then it dawned on her that the commander was no longer standing vigil by Lee's bedside. "Something's happened," she said anxiously. "Is he...?"

"He's off the machines, and so far he's holding stable," Adama said wearily, but with obvious relief.

"He's... he's breathing on his own?" Kara asked.

"Yes. They're going to leave the tubes in place until morning, as a precaution, but it looks like he's probably out of danger."

Kara just nodded. She was unable to speak.

Adama reached over and took her hand, squeezing it. She reflexively squeezed back. "I don't think I properly thanked you earlier," he said earnestly.

"For what?" she managed to croak.

"You saved my son." His eyes clouded with unaccustomed tears. "I will always owe you for that. Thank you."

Kara choked up suddenly and brought a hand to her face. She struggled for a few more seconds then broke down. The commander leaned over and embraced her, holding her close while she cried. She wanted to pull away from him. She didn't deserve to be comforted by him... not for this. She was reminded vividly of how warmly Commander Adama had treated her in the aftermath of Zak's death, under the mistaken notion that Kara had done right by his youngest son. Now, history was repeating itself, she thought. She had failed Lee as starkly as she had Zak, though in very different ways. She had intervened to assist Zak when she knew she shouldn't have. She had _failed_ to assist Lee when she knew she _should_ have. In both cases, she had watched while William Adama's sons went to their death. Only by a miracle had Lee been brought back, after the fact.

By sheer determination she marshaled control of herself. "I didn't save him," she said, in a trembling voice. "The doctors did that."

"They wouldn't have had the chance, if you hadn't found him when you did and started CPR," Adama told her.

She rolled her eyes, shaking her head. "If I'd really won that hand of cards... I wouldn't have followed him. I would have just let him go. If Helo hadn't checked those cards, I would have let him go. He's my best friend... and I damn near let him just walk off to his death. So don't thank me Commander."

Kara scrubbed the tears from her face, grabbed for her file folders and walked away. Adama just sat in the empty rec room by himself, overcome by the oppressive silence.

It wasn't a restful night for William Adama. Though he was achingly tired, he only slept for a few hours, tossing and turning through troublesome dreams, and ultimately woke well before reveille. He allowed himself a leisurely hot shower before trudging to the mess hall to grab a quick bite to eat. The mess was nearly empty since most of the crew had yet to crack an eyelid, but the cooks thought nothing of whipping up a quick hot breakfast for their commander, served up with well-wishes for Apollo's speedy recovery.

Adama arrived back at sickbay before Dr. Cottle reported for duty. Sergeant Wallace, who was still covering the night-shift, greeted him with the encouraging news that Lee had remained stable throughout the night. As soon as Dr. Cottle reviewed his condition, Lee would be taken off the critical list. William offered his heartfelt thanks to the sergeant, then found his way back to Lee's bedside. He stood looking at his son for a few minutes. His color had noticeably improved, though Lee's growth of beard enhanced the angularity of his face and made him appear especially gaunt. He idly ran a finger over the stubble on Lee's jaw line.

"We'll give him a shave after we've removed the endotracheal tube," Sergeant Wallace informed him, reading the commander's gesture toward his son. She stepped up beside Lee's bed and checked the IV flow.

"And you're just waiting on Dr. Cottle for that?" Adama asked.

"Yes Sir," the nurse confirmed.

"I don't suppose he's shown any signs of waking up?"

"Not yet, I'm afraid," she answered.

"It could be any time, or it could take days yet," Dr. Cottle told him a little over an hour later.

"Days?" Adama couldn't hide his disappointment.

"I wouldn't be surprised if he sleeps on through the rest of the week."

"Is that all it is then?" Adama inquired. "He's just sleeping? I mean, this isn't an indication of something more serious?"

"It is possible that he suffered some permanent damage, but unfortunately we won't really know until he wakes up. But, the fact that he's still in a coma is not in itself a cause for concern right now." Seeing the commander's reaction, the doctor added, "Now, don't let the word 'coma' freak you out. It's simply a state of deep sleep, and right now his body needs it. He's been through a serious trauma these past couple of days, and he was in a borderline state of exhaustion before he ever even took the damn poison."

Adama nodded, but couldn't quite silence the voices of concern in his head. "So, he's going to be okay, you think?"

"That depends on what you mean by 'okay'."

"Major, give me a break," the commander growled.

The commander's use of his military rank rather than professional title did not escape the doctor's notice. He tried to tread lightly. "What I think, is that your boy is damn lucky to be breathing. But even if we assume there was no serious neurological damage, you need to remember that it was not physical problems that really landed him here. The real issue that you need to start worrying about is one that does not fall under my area of expertise. I suggest that you start checking the fleet roster and see if you can locate a psychiatrist, preferably with expertise in traumatic stress syndromes and suicidal behaviors. Otherwise... all these efforts of the past few days might just be buying time."

By now, the nurses and the doctor had extricated the endotracheal tube from Lee's throat and removed the sensors and patches for the automatic defibrillator. The unused equipment was wheeled back into storage. Lee still had the IV inserted into the back of his left hand, and a urine bag and rectal tube remained in place beneath the sheets. A few passive sensors were still taped to his chest to continue monitoring his vital signs. The day-shift nurse gently applied a salve to Lee's chapped lips, and then he was left alone once again with his father.

To William's eye, Lee really did look like he was merely sleeping now. What a difference it made in his appearance just to get that damn tube out of his mouth! He stroked Lee's stubbled cheek with the back of his fingers and breathed a great sigh of relief.

"Thank you, Apollo," Adama whispered to the ancient Lord after whom Lee had been granted his call sign. "I have never been a religious man, but I see with my own eyes the result of your divine intervention. It is a true miracle that my son is alive. I know that this was done not for my sake, but for his. But I am grateful just the same. And I promise you I will take care of him. Whatever needs to be done now to help him, I will do it."

* * *

It was late afternoon by the time Lee received his second visitor. The commander had returned to his quarters at noon, satisfied that Lee was officially out of danger, and willing at last to allow himself some additional, much-needed sleep. Kara didn't bother to check in with the staff when she arrived at sickbay. She already knew where Lee's bed was and headed straight for it. The curtain had been left wide open now that the commander was taking a break from his vigil, but Kara drew it back around, creating at least an impression of privacy. 

Kara stood at Lee's bedside and watched him sleeping. The slow rise and fall of his chest was a blessed assurance that her nightmare was indeed over, even if she was never able to fully forget it. She settled her hands on the edge of the bed and leaned toward him, keeping her voice quiet.

"Hey, it's me. Yeah, yeah I promised to come back and see you again about 2 days ago... but hell somebody has to do your job while you're lounging around here. Busy, busy, busy. It's no wonder you were worn out. With both you and your Dad on vacation, Tigh's dumping on me now. Thanks a lot."

Kara paused and in spite of her best intentions she found herself growing uncomfortably emotional. She looked into Lee's somnolent face and suddenly found herself fighting tears. "Damn it Lee," she said, "why did you do this? You never even talked to me. Why didn't you talk to me? Was it that whole, stupid, 'You're the CAG, so we're not friends,' crap? Come on. You know I'm full of shit! You know... you know that I really..."

Kara choked up and grabbed a tissue from the box sitting on the bedside table and blew her nose. "Damn it. See this?" she chided him. "You think I get this way for somebody I don't care about? You know damn well that I... _care_ about you. Don't you Lee?"

Kara's voice dropped to a mere whisper. "You really didn't know, did you?" She bit her lip to hold back the urge to start crying again. When she could speak again, she said, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I've been nothing but a pain in the ass to you since you first came on board. All I ever did was make everything harder for you. But frak it, you always look so damn... in _control_ and invincible. It never occurred to me that you might really be hurting too. Well, I get it now okay? And I'm sorry."

She tentatively reached out a hand to stroke his forehead. "Let me make it up to you. Please... come back so I can make it up to you." Almost on irresistible impulse she leaned down and kissed his cheek. With her face mere inches from his, she watched him intently, but there was no response.

She straightened up and said quietly, "Hurry back Lee." Then she pulled the curtain aside, and slipped away.

Kara never noticed that someone had been observing her from the moment she entered sickbay. He had followed her inside, keeping a discreet distance, and then he had situated himself on the other side of the curtain surrounding Lee Adama's bed, where he overheard every word that Kara said. She departed sickbay so quickly that she never saw Gaius Baltar behind her, watching her leave, and she never saw him slip inside the curtain by Lee's bed and draw it closed.

"Well, well," Baltar said, keeping his voice low. "Captain Invincible himself. I must say, for a rival, I don't find you very impressive. What _does_ she see in you?"

He stood beside the captain's bed, and cocked his head to the side. He nudged Lee's arm once, twice. He took up Lee's wrist, raising his arm several inches from the bed then released it, letting it drop limply back down again.

"Can you explain the attraction?" Gaius teased the unconscious man. "No, I suppose you can't, at the moment. Ironic, isn't it? The lovely things that she says to you... but only at times when _you_ can't hear them and _I_ can."

He sauntered around to the other side of the bed, eyeing the rack holding Lee's IV bag. "Didn't I tell you that I always win? Brains always win out over brawn. Though, I must give you credit for sheer tenacity. For you to survive a lethal dose of andropine poison... that actually is impressive. I do give you marks for that. But in the end, I _do_ always win." He reached a hand up and fiddled with the length of the IV tube.

"You really should try to be more careful."


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Voices. There were voices somewhere nearby. Somebody was even laughing. He waited for the disturbance to die down so that he could just drift back to full sleep, but the conversation didn't let up. His eyelids felt like leaded weights and he couldn't drag them open, so he gave up and just drifted hazily halfway between sleep and wakefulness. Then somebody cut loose with a raucous belly-laugh that chased the prospect of continued sleep away. With a concerted effort Lee heaved his eyes open and glanced around for the disruptive party.

"Can it!" he wanted to yell. "Take it to the rec room! People are sleeping in here!" But not a sound issued from his throat. Then it began to dawn on him that the images his eyes were reporting were not from the pilots' quarters. He blinked, his brain fuzzily focusing on the fact that he had no idea where he was. Unsettled and disoriented, Lee tried to lift his head in order to look around, but if his eyelids had felt heavy, his head was far more so. He only managed to turn his head to one side. Gradually, familiarity with his environment began to register in his brain. He had been here before. He had been here many times. He was in sickbay.

"Captain? Captain Adama?"

It took a few seconds before Lee recognized his name. He tried turning his head again, toward the sound of the voice calling to him. The movement was easier this time. He saw a young man with a familiar face approaching him. The man walked up and leaned over him.

"Captain? It's Sergeant Kim, Sir. Do you remember me?"

Lee's brain was slowly getting back into gear. Sergeant. Kim. Paramedic. Lee managed an awkward nod.

"It's good to see you awake Sir," Kim said smiling. He looked up from his groggy patient and called to one of his co-workers. "Ray, send word to the doctor. Captain Adama is awake."

Lee grunted, trying to speak. His throat hurt, and his tongue felt dry and sandy.

Kim reached for a bottle of water with a long straw that was on the bedside table. "Here Sir. Take a sip. You had a tube down your throat for a couple of days, so your vocal chords could still be sore for a while." He held the cup and carefully positioned the straw at Lee's lips.

Lee took a swallow and almost gagged, but tried again and managed to take in several gulps of water. It helped considerably. After Kim moved the cup aside, Lee tried again to speak. It came out as a raspy whisper, but at least he was able to form words.

"How long?"

"Four days, Captain. You've been in a coma."

"What happened?"

* * *

"What happened?" Commander Adama asked as he strode into sickbay and up to Dr. Cottle.

"He woke up," Cottle said blithely.

"You told me that on the phone," Adama said impatiently. "How long ago? Is he all right?"

The doctor completed making some notes on a clipboard, and set it behind the administration desk. "He came-to a little over an hour ago. The paramedics said he seemed a little disoriented at first, but by the time I was able to examine him he seemed very alert and fully responsive. All in all, I'd say he's doing very well."

Relief washed across the commander's face. "Then there doesn't appear to be any... damage?"

"His reflexes are fine, and a simple memory check came out okay. He knows his name, mother's maiden name, serial number, how old he was when he lost his virginity, etc. But..."

"But what?"

"He _claims_ to have absolutely no idea why he's here," the doctor said. "He says that he does not remember anything happening to him."

"He doesn't remember?"

"That's what he says."

"Why would that be?"

"It's possible the event was too abrupt to be imprinted into memory," Dr. Cottle speculated. "Or the poison could have caused some short-term memory loss, but I think that's unlikely. I suspect that if the memory loss is genuine, then the cause is more psychological than physical."

Adama frowned. "_If_ it's genuine? You think he's lying?"

"Don't know. You know him better than I do. You would probably be the better judge of that."

"What happened?" Kara Thrace inquired, striding rapidly up to the commander and the doctor as she entered sickbay.

"He woke up," Cottle said blithely.

"You told me that much on the phone," Kara said.

"Did I?" Dr. Cottle said, feigning surprise.

"He's doing well," Commander Adama told Kara. "Except it appears that he doesn't remember using the Needle." He turned his attention back to the doctor. "How much does he remember?"

"Well, he remembers everything... about the night he lost his virginity," Dr. Cottle said dryly. He ignored the look of impatience on the commander's face and added, "But as for the suicide attempt, you'll have to tell me." He looked at Kara. "Lieutenant, you were with him in the hours before. You'd be the best one to pinpoint for us just where his memory starts to fade."

Kara nodded. "Okay. What have you told him so far?"

"Nothing yet. And believe me he's not happy about that." Adama and Kara both chuckled, nodding their understanding. "Now before we go talk to him, I have to caution you that he is still very weak. Keep that in mind. I don't want him getting overly fatigued."

"I'll be gentle with him," Kara smiled.

"Fine, but let's talk to him about his memory loss first," Dr. Cottle said dryly. He turned away, heading for the recovery bay.

Kara rolled her eyes and muttered at the doctor's back, "Son of a bitch."

As the threesome approached his bed, Lee turned his head toward them. Adama felt a swell of emotion at seeing Lee's bright blue eyes wide open and focusing upon him. So many times throughout that first horrible day, he'd feared he would never see his boy awake again. It was a prayer answered. He moved up beside Lee's bed and placed a hand on his shoulder. Kara went around to the opposite side, smiling warmly at Lee.

Adama squeezed Lee's shoulder. "Welcome back Son."

"It's about damn time," Kara grinned.

Lee offered them both a weak smile. "Does this mean that somebody is finally going to tell me what the hell is going on and why I'm here?"

Keeping his hand on Lee's shoulder, William Adama leaned down closer, speaking softly. "The doctor says you don't remember anything about what happened?"

Lee shook his head. "No. Nothing."

"What _do _you remember?" Adama encouraged him.

Lee sighed. "I finished my shift in CIC. It was getting late. I just wanted to grab a bite to eat and get some sleep." He turned his head toward Kara. "Then you showed up and started harassing me. You tried to pick a fight... and you slugged me."

Adama glanced sharply up at Kara. She hadn't reported _that_ little tidbit to him before.

Kara shifted uncomfortably and cleared her throat. She sheepishly avoided the commander's eyes. "Riiiiiight. And then what?"

Lee blinked wearily. "You bullied me into going to the rec room instead of the mess, where I was serenaded... horridly... by the squadron. We had a few drinks. Played some cards..." his voice faded off.

"And?" Kara prodded him to continue.

Lee's eyes seemed to lose focus and he shook his head.

Kara offered him an assist. "Who won the game Lee?"

Lee's face grew deeply concentrated. Then he shook his head, wincing. "I don't know. I'm sure it was probably you."

"But you don't remember losing?" Kara asked, watching Lee carefully.

"No," Lee groaned softly. "Is that where it happened? In the rec room?"

"Where _what_ happened?" Adama asked.

"I don't know," Lee groaned. "Whatever landed me here. You tell me."

Adama asked him pointedly, "You don't remember how the card game ended or leaving the rec room?"

Lee's eyes again focused on some point far way, but after several seconds he wearily shook his head. "No."

The commander straightened up and exchanged uncertain looks with Kara and Dr. Cottle. Lee noted the silent exchange amongst his visitors and grew frustrated.

"Would someone please talk to me?" he pleaded. "What the frak happened to me?"

Adama looked again at the doctor, who nodded his consent. The commander once again leaned over his son. "Lee, there's something I want you to tell me first. When did you remove the Red Needle from your Viper?"

Lee looked up at his father, confused. "What?"

Adama said, "There wasn't time for you do it after the card game."

Lee looked thoroughly puzzled. "What are you talking about?"

"Son... we know. How long ago was it? Days? Weeks?"

Lee stared at his father. After several seconds he looked over at Kara, then toward the doctor. They were all watching him with intent anticipation. "You all know?"

"Yes," Adama said.

Lee's voice suddenly became sharp. "_What_ do you know? I haven't got a clue what you're talking about."

Adama stressed, "The Red Needle Lee..."

"What about the fraking Needle?"

"You took it from your Viper."

Lee shook his head. "Why would I do that?"

"You tell me Son. Why would you?"

Lee rolled his eyes, confusion mixing now with near fury. He nearly shouted, "Would you stop talking in fraking circles? Somebody... _anybody_ just tell me what the frak is going on!"

Kara set a gentle hand on Lee's arm. "Lee, take it easy," she said soothingly. "Please calm down."

Lee glared at her. "You want me to calm down? Then talk to me!"

"All right," she answered back sharply. "Gloves off. Here it is. You used the Needle Lee. You threw the card game, and left the rec room. I followed you, but by the time I caught up to you in quarters... you had already used the fraking Needle."

Frustration was replaced on Lee's face by shock. Again, he looked around at each of the three people standing beside his bed. Their expressions were mixtures of concern, sadness and even pity. "You... all think that I..." Confusion ran rampant on Lee's face. Then he shook his head abruptly. "No. No, that's not what happened."

"It's not?" Adama asked.

"No."

Adama said grimly, "Lee, the Needle was found in your rack."

"I didn't use it."

Doctor Cottle cleared his throat. "Captain, it is a medical certainty that you have been suffering the effects of andropine poisoning from a single injection point on your right forearm."

Lee lifted his right arm and saw the still-tender welt where the deadly needle had jabbed him. Mystified, he dropped his arm back to the bed. Lee was visibly shaken, but after a few more seconds he again insisted, "I didn't try to kill myself. That is _not_ what happened."

"All right," Commander Adama said gently. "What did happen?"

Growing increasingly distressed Lee replied, "I don't remember." Seeing the skepticism surrounding him Lee persisted, "I'm not lying about this. I don't remember what happened, but I _know_ I didn't try to kill myself."

Kara asked, dubiously, "Lee... if it's true that you don't remember..."

He interrupted, "It _is_ true."

Kara continued, "...then how can you be sure that you didn't..."

He interrupted again, "Because I don't have any fraking death wish, and I never did!" The strain of the confrontation was beginning to take a toll on Lee. The color was fading from his face, and he was breathing like he'd just come from a run around the ship.

Adama tried to soothe him. "Take it easy Son, please."

Lee turned sharply on his father. "Take it easy? You're all standing here looking at me like you think I'm crazy. How am I supposed to take it easy?"

Kara responded, "Lee, no one said you were crazy."

"Just suicidal," he quipped.

Adama gently told him, "Son, we just want to help you."

"Then try listening to me," Lee moaned. "I never used the damn Needle."

Kara suddenly grabbed his right arm, intentionally pressing on the tender welt. "Then explain this," she challenged him. Lee winced and tried to pull his arm back, but his strength was nearly waned. Kara held on easily. "I saw the Needle Lee," she said tightly. "It was found in your rack... right where I found _you_, still warm but already dead to the world. And this..." she pushed on the sore spot again, "...is where it stuck you. Explain that!"

"Starbuck," Dr. Cottle said in warning.

"Kara!" Adama said sternly. "Stop it."

Kara let go of Lee's arm, but wouldn't let up on him. "Come on Lee! Explain!"

Lee pulled his arm away from her, glaring at Kara. "I can't," he growled. "It must have... been an accident... or..."

Kara laughed derisively. "An accident?" In her mind she was repeatedly flashing back to that moment, finding Lee lying dead, pale and staring into oblivion. Her nerves were in turmoil and Lee's denial was making her angrier by the second. "An accident?" she sneered again. "What... you just rolled over onto it... after it accidentally found its way from your Viper into your rack, and accidentally had the safety seal broken and removed?"

Lee met her derision with his own. "Or someone else took it and used it on me!"

Commander Adama blinked. It had never even occurred to him that Lee might in fact have been the victim of an attempted homicide. "Who?" he asked, considering the question for the very first time.

Lee closed his eyes, wishing now that he could just slip back into a coma. "I don't know," he groaned. "I don't remember, damn it! I only know that I never removed the Red Needle from my Viper, and I never had any intention of killing myself." He pulled his eyes back open and scanned the suspicious faces around him. "And... I know that none of you have any intention of believing me."

Adama winced inwardly at the look of rejection on Lee's face and tried to placate him. "Son, it's not that we don't _want_ to you believe you..."

"It's all right Dad," Lee said sarcastically. "I'm perfectly used to having you both doubt me by now. I should know better than to expect anything else."

Kara winced in reaction and looked away.

Lee added, "However, I'm too fraking tired right now, so if you both just want to dump on me, can you come back and do it some other time, please?"

Adama reached for his son's hand. "Lee, listen..."

Kara's temper peaked and she turned again on Lee. "You fraking ass," she hissed. "You put us through 4 days of hell... and then you have the gall to complain about how _we_ treat _you_? We're trying to help you, you ungrateful little shit!"

"Kara," Adama tried to intervene, again.

"Help me?" Lee's own ire rose in response to Kara's. He laughed derisively. "Well, you're true to form if nothing else. As supportive as you've always been. Tell you what, why don't you bring a flogging stick back with you next time so you can indulge those _helpful_ instincts in real Kara Thrace style!"

Doctor Cottle stepped forward quickly when Kara appeared ready to slug Lee where he lay. "All right, that's enough! Both of you!" He steered Kara away from Lee's bed. "Lieutenant, just step on outside." Kara resisted, glaring at Lee. "Now," Cottle insisted firmly. Kara stomped away, fuming.

The commander then caught the look that the doctor sent his way. He got the message and stepped away from Lee's bed. "Get some rest," he told Lee. Before walking away, he added, "By the way, she's the one who found you... and saved your life." He left Lee alone with the doctor.

Adama encountered Kara pacing around the hallway outside of sickbay like a caged animal. When he drew near, she grumbled, "I swear, once he's stronger I'm going to beat the crap out of him."

Adama smiled. "I thought you were going to make it up to him for giving him a hard time." He laughed then at the torn expression on her face. "Don't you see it Kara? You really did save him. He's back... and he's fighting. He's fighting!"

Kara was completely confused. She didn't know whether to laugh, scream, or cry. She was shaking out of pure frustration and boiling emotion.

Adama squeezed her shoulders. "You did good Starbuck. You did good."

She laughed, almost from hysteria. "Did I?" she wondered. "Why do I get the feeling that I just majorly frakked up?" She pulled herself together. "I mean... what if Lee's telling the truth? What if he didn't do this to himself, and there is still some would-be murderer walking around here, ready to try again when he finds out that Lee survived?"

Adama considered that disturbing possibility. "I'll have Sergeant Hadrian take statements from all your roommates. If Lee was attacked in quarters, _someone_ must have seen or heard something."


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

"Well you're certainly looking better."

Lee looked at his latest visitor and offered her a tired smile. He had dozed off and on since the contentious visit by his father and Kara earlier in the day, but his sleep had been shallow and not very restful. His mind was too busy turning somersaults. "I must have really looked like crap before then," he said.

Laura Roslin smiled at him gently. "Yes, you did." She walked up to stand beside his bed. "How do you feel?"

"Weak," Lee replied. "Muscles are pretty stiff too, but overall I feel pretty good."

"That's wonderful to hear." She reached down and took his hand in one of hers, squeezing it firmly. "I knew you could pull through. It's so good just to see you awake again."

Lee felt a little self-conscious, lying there with the President of the Colonies holding his hand. He considered Laura Roslin a friend and it was comforting to have her companionship, but she was also the _President_. He wondered what she was thinking about him. There was no sign of the pity and skepticism on her face that he'd received from his father and Kara.

"Thank you," he said quietly. "Madame President... what did they tell you about me?"

Her smile faded slightly. "You mean, about what happened to you?"

"Yes."

She paused only slightly before explaining, "I was told that you removed the Red Needle from your Viper, and used it, and you are now having some difficulty remembering the event." Her tone was gentle and not at all judgmental.

"They're wrong," Lee told her.

Her face registered surprise. "You do remember?"

Lee shook his head. "No, but I didn't try to kill myself." He watched her face for a reaction, but she just stood beside him, listening intently. "I never took the Needle from my Viper," he told her. "And I never had a death wish. I was stressed out. I was tired. I don't dispute that. And maybe I would have liked to take a _vacation_... but there was no death wish." Lee watched her to see how she would respond.

After a few seconds of thoughtful reflection, Laura said quietly, "I believe you."

"You do?" Lee was surprised.

"Yes," she said simply.

"I'm glad to hear it," Lee said, still surprised by how easy this had been. "But, why do you believe me? No one else does."

She squeezed his hand and smiled at him. "I trust you, completely. I know that you would not try to deceive me. If you tell me that you didn't do this to yourself, then I believe you."

Lee felt a wave of relief wash over him. "Thank you," he said wearily.

Laura considered telling Lee about Tom Zarek's suspiciously early knowledge of the events, but she decided against it. There was no evidence to connect Zarek with anything but a rumor and plenty of people had heard those. Laura still had her own nagging suspicion about Zarek, but Lee was obviously still quite weak and until she had something more substantial to tell, there was little point in troubling him.

She leaned down toward him a little. "I also hope that if things were going badly for you, and you really were feeling overwhelmed... I hope you know that you could come to me and talk to me about it."

"I appreciate that Madame President, but..."

"No buts," she interrupted, sounding a bit like a stern schoolmaster.

"But," Lee continued anyway, "you already have so much to worry about without..."

She interrupted him again. "Captain Apollo, I consider you to be a true friend. I hope that you might think of me the same way."

"I do," Lee told her.

"Then there is nothing that you can't say to me. Good news or bad. Flattering or brutal truth. There is nothing that you should feel you need to withhold from me, certainly not for my sake."

"I just don't want to be a burden to you," he said.

Laura shook her head and smiled at him with gentle compassion. "I will never think of you that way. I owe you far too much."

Lee was quiet and thoughtful for a short while, and then he nodded. "Can I... can I expect you to be as frank with me?" he asked. She responded with a sheepish grin, but nodded. "You aren't just here to see me," he guessed. "You had your own appointment, didn't you?"

She hesitated only briefly before replying, "Yes."

"And?"

"It's not good," she told him. "The cancer may be spreading to my lungs."

Now it was Lee who gave her hand a compassionate squeeze. "Can they alter the treatments somehow to..."

"We are," she confirmed. "But it will make things... more difficult for me. The side effects will be more pronounced than with Chamala. I'm going to have to make a public statement pretty soon. Either that or try to convince everyone that I've gone punk."

Lee was amazed at this woman's quiet spirit and her strength. He smiled at her. "If there's any way that I can help..."

"You can."

"Name it."

"Get strong," she told him. "Get your memory back so that we know who did this to you. Then let me know so I can clobber him."

Lee laughed. "My hero."

* * *

"Frosty was there," Kara said pointing out Lt. Shawn Mullins' assigned rack. "And Stinger was asleep over there." Ensign Louis Karo's rack was pointed out next. 

"And they were the only ones here?" Commander Adama asked for clarification, though both Kara and Sergeant Hadrian had previously recounted to him the events surrounding Lee's alleged suicide attempt.

"Yeah," Kara confirmed. "Aside from the pilots out flying the CAP, the rest of the squadron was all back in the rec room enjoying Lee's 'Welcome Back' party... without Lee."

"And Lee was in his rack?" This question came from Colonel Tigh. He stood shoulder to shoulder with Commander Adama, surveying the scene.

"Yes," Starbuck answered, though she didn't turn to look in the direction of where Lee had been laying that night.

"Did anything look disturbed or out of place?" Adama asked.

Starbuck shook her head. "No. Nothing." She took a deep breath. "The only thing that looked odd was Lee. He was in his rack, but he still had his pants and his boots on."

Tigh's face scrunched in puzzlement. "He was still wearing his boots?"

"Yes."

"But not his shirt?" Adama asked.

"No. He had his tanks on, but not his uniform shirt."

"So," Tigh speculated, "_if_ he was attacked, it was while he was still getting undressed. Was his shirt lying around?"

Starbuck shook her head. "No."

"Was his locker open?" Adama asked.

"No, it wasn't."

The commander strode up to Lee's locker and pulled the door open. Everything appeared to be in order. Shirts and pants were all hanging in perfect regulation order. A shaving kit sat on the upper shelf. Shoes were placed in perfect alignment at the bottom. Everything looked perfectly inspection-ready.

"What are you looking for?" Tigh asked.

Adama shook his head. "I don't know. Anything that looks out of place."

"A perp would have had plenty of time to clean up and cover his tracks by now," the colonel observed.

"True," Adama agreed glumly. "What next Starbuck?"

Kara reluctantly turned to face Lee's rack. "Um... I walked up next to Lee and I uh... I noticed that his eyes were open, but when I talked to him he didn't respond. That's when I started to get worried that something was wrong." She had to take a second to clear her throat. "I stepped up on the lower rack to get a good look at him... and he was... he was dead."

Adama walked up to stand beside Lee's rack. It was difficult to stay focused and objective. It took a concerted effort of will to ask, "Was he lying on his back... on his side?"

"He was on his back," Kara said. "Laid out straight. Arms too, down at his sides.

"Not turned or skewed at all?"

Starbuck winced. The image of it was all too real in her mind. "No."

The next question was even more difficult for the commander to ask. "Where was the Needle? Was it in his hand?"

Starbuck shook her head. "No. The paramedic found it toward the back of the bunk."

"Toward the back... by his right side." It was painful but Adama wanted a clear picture of exactly what had happened with his son.

"What are you thinking Bill?" Tigh asked.

"Not sure," Adama answered. "The Needle puncture was on Lee's right arm."

"The same side where the Needle was found in his rack," Tigh commented.

"Yes, but to use it on his right arm..." Adama simulated the action of holding a needle in one hand and sticking it into his other arm. "Lee would have to have been holding the Needle in his left hand."

"Lee is right-handed," Kara observed.

"But," Tight pointed out, "if he's in his rack, his right side is more concealed from view. If he was trying to hide what he was doing, he would have just switched hands. There's not a lot of precision required here."

Adama wondered aloud, "But shouldn't the Needle have ended up on the left side... by the hand that was holding it?"

"Not if he was turned away toward the right to conceal what he was doing," Tigh replied.

Adama pointed out, "But Kara said he wasn't turned. He was laid out perfectly straight."

Tigh considered the situation, and then shook his head. "You're reaching Bill. The poison doesn't kill _instantaneously_. He did have a _little_ bit of time, enough to jab his arm, drop the needle toward the back of the bunk and then... lay himself out to wait for another 15 seconds or so."

The colonel walked up to stand beside the commander. "Besides," Tigh said, "if Lee was attacked, we assume it must have been before he had a chance to take his boots off, while he was still in the center of the room. That would mean he was laid out in his rack _after_ the poison took effect, and the Needle was tossed in with him. Now Lee isn't a big tall guy, but he's no lightweight. The kid's solid muscle." He faced the upper-level rack and reached up to the height of the mattress. "It would be no simple thing to hoist that much deadweight into a topside rack. How would you manage that without waking up the roommates?"

The commander and Starbuck both pondered the question without reply.

Colonel Tigh frowned and shook his head. "I'm sorry Bill. As much as I know you'd like to believe that Lee didn't do it to himself, I just can't logically see it any other way."

Adama frowned, looking at the height of the rack. After a few seconds, he nodded sadly. "Not to mention the fact that Lee would have fought back. Even if he'd been initially caught unaware, like you said he still had a little time. He'd have fought, but there was no sign of a struggle, and no one heard a thing."

Tigh placed a sympathetic hand on his friend's shoulder. "He may not remember it... he may not _want_ to remember it... but he did it Bill. I think you need to accept that."

Adama took a very deep breath. "I think you're right. But the hard part will be getting Lee to accept it."

Kara just stood silently, staring past the two senior officers at Lee's empty rack.

After his tour of the _crime_ scene, Adama headed back to sickbay to look in on Lee. He didn't know what he would say to Lee when he saw him, but he wanted to make certain that Lee knew he cared, even if he couldn't go along with Lee's state of denial. When he arrived in sickbay, Lee was asleep. He didn't want to wake Lee, but it made him nervous seeing his son unconscious again. Checking in with the nurses, he was assured that Lee was doing well. His life signs were still stable, and if he felt up to it in the morning they would try to start him on solid foods.

With his mind at ease over his son's physical state, William stood for a few minutes by Lee's bed pondering what to do about his son's mental state. Lee needed help. He needed _professional_ help. William was certain that there would be at least a few qualified mental health professionals scattered amongst the civilians in the fleet. It was time to bring one on board Galactica.

The commander realized this was actually something he should have done before. The entire crew of Galactica had faced numerous traumas over the last few months, and there were likely more hardships yet to come. The crew needed a resident counselor on staff. Adama resolved to draft up a job requisition and have it circulated through the fleet to all persons with the appropriate professional background. That person would be permanently transferred to Galactica to minister to the entire crew, starting of course with Lee.

"I've been a very inattentive father to you over the years Son," William whispered to Lee. "Most of your life, I wasn't around at all. But I'm here now, and I am not going to lose you out of negligence." He lightly rested his hand on Lee's shoulder. "I'm going to help you, whether you like it or not."


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

Lee was awakened the next morning by a nurse who insisted that he wasn't allowed to sleep through breakfast. He could doze off again later, but if he wanted to get his strength back, he needed to eat. They raised the head of his bed and propped him up with an extra pillow to help him stay upright. Lee actually felt pretty steady sitting up and felt much better overall than he had the day before. He knew he had a long way to go before he would be jogging 20 laps around the ship again, but he felt plenty capable of sitting upright for a meal. Breakfast was bland eggs, toast with some kind of mild fruit spread, thin applesauce, and a cup of fruit juice.

"Is it supposed to be tasteless?" he asked the nurse after taking his first bite.

"Mine was," she commented dryly. "Need anything?"

"A bottle of hot sauce?"

She gave him a wry smile. "Maybe with lunch."

"Really?"

"No, not really." The nurse set what looked at first like an extra-heavy napkin beside Lee's food tray. Lee picked it up then gave the nurse a questioning look.

"Barf bag?"

"Just in case," she said, then winked at him and moved on to serve the next patient.

Lee set the bag back on the tray table and took another bite. Unfortunately the bag didn't sit unused for long. Lee had barely eaten half of his breakfast before his stomach heaved and rejected the meal. Disgruntled, he tried to wash the bile taste from his mouth by drinking the fruit juice, but his stomach didn't appreciate that either and he had to grab for the bag a second time. "Frak," he muttered, pushing the tray table aside and settling back against the pillows.

When the nurse returned a short while later to collect the tray he said to her, "I told you it needed hot sauce."

The nurse gave him a knowingly sympathetic look. She topped off the water bottle by his bed and handed it to him. "Just take small sips. You were able to keep that down yesterday. If you want to try eating again at lunchtime let me know."

Lee took a few swallows of water and was pleased that it didn't cause any problems with his stomach. He settled back and just tried to relax, considering just going back to sleep. Then Doctor Cottle came by on his morning rounds, checking Lee's blood pressure, pulse, and listening to his heart and lungs.

"Any new complaints Captain?" the doctor asked.

"Yes," Lee told him. "You need to fire your chef."

"He's not a chef," Cottle replied. "He's just some guy we hauled in from cleaning the head. Anything else?"

Lee hesitated before asking, "Have you heard from my father this morning?"

"Not _from_ him, no. I did hear that he resumed official command this morning though. The CIC staff had some kind of brief ceremony for him."

Lee nodded. The ceremony had been all Lee's idea. He was the one who had planned it out. It wasn't exactly official military protocol, just a gesture intended to make the commander feel welcomed back. "I'm glad they went ahead with it," he said quietly.

"Well with you on the mend, he has to have something else to keep him busy."

"How long before you cut me loose?"

"That depends on how soon we can cut you off of the IV and when you're able to get back on your feet."

"I didn't do so well with breakfast."

"So I hear."

"But I think I could handle a short walk."

Cottle pursed his lips and squinted at Lee. "Let's hold off on that another day. If you're really feeling adventurous, you can always psych yourself up for lunch."

The doctor headed off to continue his rounds and Lee settled himself back on the bed. He was once again considering trying to doze off when he saw Crewman Specialist Cally entering the recovery bay. She was peering toward him almost tentatively, holding a cardboard box in her hands. When it was clear to her that he had noticed her, she smiled shyly and nodded, looking like she was about to head off somewhere else, but she approached his bed instead.

"Hello Sir," Cally said, smiling.

"Hi Cally." Lee noted the large box in her hands and hoped it wasn't too heavy. He wondered briefly why the Chief hadn't sent one of the guys from the deck crew on whatever delivery errand Cally was here for.

"We've all heard the good news," she told Lee. "Everyone is very happy that you're going to be all right."

"Thank you Cally," he said. He nodded toward the box. "Please, don't let me keep you."

"Sorry?"

"Whatever you came here for, don't feel obligated to stand around chatting with me," he said.

"But... I came to see you," she said.

"Me?" Lee asked in surprise.

"Yeah," she said, averting her eyes from his. "I uh, brought you something. It's... it's from the whole deck crew." She set the box down on the tray table and reached in to pull out what was inside. She set it on the table and discarded the box. Lee stared at it. It was a metal sculpture of a potted bouquet of flowers. "I tried to leave this here for you a few days ago, but there wasn't anywhere to put it and the nurses said it would be in the way, but maybe now..."

Lee sat up and pulled the tray table closer, scrutinizing the sculpture. Some bits were recognizable, such as conduit wires for the flower stems, and small bits of tubing, cut open and twisted around to form the flower petals. Mostly it was various bits of scrap that had been cut, shaped, and soldered together. An appreciative smile crept across Lee's face. "This is great. You all _made_ this?"

Cally smiled broadly, pleased that he liked it. "Yeah. We did. We couldn't go pick the real things so... we improvised. Just our way of saying, 'get well soon.'"

"Thank you," Lee said, sincerely. "Please thank everyone on the flight deck for me and tell them that I'm... I'm very touched by this. It's beautiful."

"I'm glad you like it," she said.

"I love it."

Cally felt herself starting to blush and tried to take her leave. "Well, I don't want to tire you out. I'm just... _we're_ all really glad you're okay."

Before she could walk away, Lee said, "Cally... would you mind staying for just a minute? There's something I need to ask you."

Nervously, she asked, "What is it?"

Lee regarded her pensively and said, "I really need a completely honest answer and I think I can trust you to give me one. Obviously the crew knows that I'm in here. What are they saying about me, really? What do they think happened?"

Cally fidgeted a bit. "Well, you know there are always a few gossip mongers who come up with crazy ideas, but most people don't really pay attention to them. Mostly we all just know what the Chief told us in his announcement."

"Announcement? The Chief made an _announcement_?"

Cally nodded. "Yeah. The morning after you..." She stopped, unable to say it.

"After I what?" Lee asked, encouraging her to tell him.

"After you used the Red Needle," she said quietly. She couldn't look at him at first, but after a few seconds her eyes tracked back toward his. They looked at each other for a few silent seconds then Lee closed his eyes and nodded.

"So, the whole ship thinks that I tried to off myself. Is that right?" When she didn't reply, Lee opened his eyes again and prodded her gently. "Cally? That's what everyone thinks, isn't it?"

Cally looked at Lee intently, staring straight into Lee's bright blue eyes, seeking the truth. "Did you?" she asked in a very quiet voice.

Lee looked at her sadly but answered without hesitation. "No. I didn't. My memory is still fuzzy about that night, but Cally I swear to you that I didn't try to kill myself. Apparently I did get stuck by a Red Needle, but_ I_ didn't do it. Someone tried to kill me."

Cally's eyes opened wide. "Who?" she whispered.

Lee frowned. "I don't know. But I'm going to find out. I'll remember. And when I do... Gods help the bastard."

Cally nodded, her face looking suddenly determined.

Lee asked her, "Would you spread the word for me? Tell the crew that I am not crazy. I didn't try to off myself and the son-of-a-bitch who did this had better start running for cover right now."

Cally nodded again. "I'll tell them," she promised. "And if we catch the bastard before you do... I swear I'll..."

Lee smiled. "Bite his ear off?"

Cally scoffed. "I was thinking much lower... and of using a blowtorch."

Lee winced. "Ouch. I'm glad you're on my side."

"I am you know," she said.

Lee smiled at her again. "I do know. Thank you. And thanks again for the _flowers_." He held out his hand to her.

On sudden impulse Cally leaned down, slipping inside Lee's outstretched arm and hugged him. Lee was surprised, but after only a second he hugged her back. Cally stepped back, certain now that she was blushing, but she didn't care.

"Feel better Sir," she told him.

"I already do," he said.

Cally walked out of sickbay with a shamelessly broad smile across her face.

Lee did doze off again after Cally left, but he didn't sleep for very long. After losing his breakfast he'd drunk nearly the entire bottle of water the nurse had given him and he managed to keep it down. In spite of the IV, his mouth still felt dry and his throat was still tender from being intubated, and the water helped to soothe him. However, a couple of hours later the extra water was heading south. His urine bag had been removed the day before, so Lee had to look for a bedpan. He didn't see one anywhere within reach.

"Frak," he muttered, wondering if the pan had slipped farther under the bed where he couldn't see it. He tried sitting up and leaning over the edge of the bed for a better look.

"Are you all right Sir?"

Lee looked up and saw Ensign Louis "Stinger" Karo walking towards him. Lee straightened up on the bed. "I'm fine Stinger, thanks." Stinger, who was 21 years old and looked barely 16, had been the greenest of green pilots on Galactica when the Holocaust began. Now, only a few months later, due to sheer attrition, Stinger was one of the more experienced pilots under Lee's command. Stinger was a scrappy kid and sometimes very immature, but he was cool-headed in combat and handled his bird well. He had flown right alongside Lee through the most harrowing encounters of the war, so Lee had to remind himself that as young as Stinger looked, the kid was no rook anymore.

Stinger walked up beside Lee's bed and regarded his CAG quizzically. "Did you need something Captain? It looked like you were looking for something."

Lee hesitated a moment, then shrugged. What the heck? Lee had been flying and rooming with Stinger for months now. He was practically family. "Actually, would you mind checking to see if there's a uh... bedpan under there?"

Stinger looked like he was forcing himself to keep a straight face, but he crouched down to look under the bed. He straightened up. "Sorry Sir. Don't see one." He glanced around. "Oh hey..." He trotted across the aisle and grabbed a pan from the bedside of another patient.

Lee saw what he was doing and tried to wave him off. "No, don't... I'll just page the nurses' station."

"Why?" Stinger asked, holding out the pilfered bedpan. When Lee hesitated to take it, Stinger took a look inside. "It's clean," he told Lee.

Lee chuckled and accepted the pan. "Thanks." Lee's body wanted him to put the pan to immediate use, but Stinger was still standing there with his trademark little-boy smile on his face.

"Starbuck told us all at morning briefing today that you were going to be okay. The whole squadron was really happy to hear that," Stinger said.

"Thanks," Lee said, grateful for the news but wishing that Stinger would go away so that he could...

"Oh, and you'll be very happy to hear that Starbuck has not lit up one single cigar in the briefing room yet this week. Some people think she's just run out of stogies, but I know she hasn't. She came across a whole case of the damn things out in the fleet somewhere and she's got them stashed in the bottom of her locker."

Stinger stood there with a big grin and as much as Lee was glad for the company he really needed to use the pan, but just couldn't do it with the junior pilot there gawking at him. "Thanks for the update," Lee told him. "Um, Stinger I need to..."

"You know it isn't just the stogies that Starbuck's done away with lately. She hasn't even cracked any jokes in pre-flight briefings or threatened anybody. It's like she's trying to be all professional or something. It's kinda weird."

"Stinger," Lee said a little more forcefully to be sure he had the ensign's attention. "I really appreciate that you came to see me. I do. But at the moment, I really need to uh..." He waved a hand at the bedpan.

"Right, sorry." Stinger blinked. "Guess it's a little awkward with somebody standing right over you."

"Yes," Lee agreed. "That it is. Would you mind...?"

"No, not at all. I just wanted to drop by and let you know we're all really glad that... you're okay. It was pretty damn scary, you know?" The boyish smile vanished from Stinger's young face. He suddenly looked quite upset. "When you stopped breathing... and then Starbuck got all panicky... Man, the Cylons have never managed to scare me like that."

"I'm sorry you had to see it," Lee told him.

Stinger shifted his feet nervously. "Yeah, uh... I'm glad Starbuck found you in time... and I'm glad I was able to help. I'm really glad we didn't lose you Sir."

"Thanks Stinger. I'm glad too. But... would you mind...?"

Stinger blinked. "Oh, right. Sorry. Take care Sir."

The young ensign saluted Lee and by proper protocol waited until Lee returned the salute before he turned and walked away. Lee couldn't help chuckling at the situation even as he was relieved to be able to put the bedpan to use. He thought about what Stinger had told him, and for the first time he considered what it must have been like for those who found him... and saved him. He needed to know what happened. He needed to talk to Kara.

* * *

It was a busy morning for William on his first day back at work in over 6 weeks. He thought he'd done a pretty good job at keeping up with all the status reports while he was still recuperating from his injuries, but he was soon confronted by a deluge of new reports after arriving at CIC. To be fair, the CIC staff had taken the time to welcome him back in a simple but very thoughtful change-of-command style ceremony first... _then_ they had dumped the mountain-load of reports on him. 

"Now I remember why I was so willing to retire and turn this place into a museum," he had quipped to Lt. Gaeta when he'd received the first stack of papers. Still, William had to admit that it felt good to be back on the job and no longer forced to sit idle while matters of high importance were decided in his absence. He had felt like an anxious athlete kept in the penalty box while the opposing team racked up points in a power play. Well, the penalty period was over, and Adama was back in play.

He thumbed through the pile of papers and shook his head. "Hasn't _anyone_ even tried to keep up with this since I've been out?"

"Yes Sir," Lt. Gaeta told him. "These have only been collecting for about a week... just since Captain Adama... fell ill. He was taking care of it all before that."

Most of the reports were just short blurbs of intra-fleet communications that required oversight by a command-level officer. It was commonplace wireless traffic for the most part. A few had been marked by Gaeta as "Extra-attention CO" and Adama concentrated his time on those. Some serious engineering malfunctions had occurred on a passenger liner causing 2 decks to lose power, but the emergency had been resolved by the resident crew within an hour and the situation had been remedied. No casualties.

Another item that Gaeta marked looked commonplace enough, but it was flagged due to the commander's standing order; all wireless traffic to and from the Astral Queen was to be monitored by command-level personnel. As far as Commander Adama was concerned, the Astral Queen was under the control of a dangerous terrorist, and he insisted on keeping a close watch over all activity around that ship. The monitored traffic was innocuous however. A repair job on the Geminon Traveler was being reported to the Astral Queen as completed. Nothing unusual there. Tom Zarek often organized labor teams among the prisoners to assist with repair jobs throughout the fleet. The wireless contact only caught Adama's eye due to the late-night hour of the transmission. The message had been sent five days ago, shortly after 0100 hours. It was an odd hour of the day for a work detail, but equipment couldn't be counted on to only break down during regular business hours. Adama marked the message report as "Noted" and set it aside along with the other items that simply needed to be filed.

When midday rolled around he left the watch to Lt. Gaeta and headed for sickbay. He checked at the nurses' station for a quick update on Lee's progress. He was told that Lee was doing well, and though he had failed to keep breakfast down he was already in the process of trying again with lunch. He thanked the nurses and strolled down to look in on his son. Lee was sitting up with a food tray in front of him, eating cautiously. William grabbed a chair and pulled over it beside Lee's bed. "How's it going?" he asked.

"Tastes terrible," Lee said. "But so long as it only goes one way, I'm satisfied. They won't let me out of here until they can remove the IV."

"Makes sense," William said. "But don't be in such a rush Kiddo. You only came out of a coma yesterday."

Lee swallowed and gave his father a sardonic look. "_You're_ trying to lecture me about relaxing in sickbay?"

William shrugged. "So, I wasn't a model patient."

Lee shook his head, smirking. "Cottle said you were the worst he's ever had."

"Always trying to excel," William replied. He couldn't help smiling. Lee looked _so_ much better. His color had come back and his strength was obviously returning if he was sitting up and eating on his own. Was it really so recently ago that he'd sat there holding Lee's hand and praying that Lee would be able to breathe on his own again?

"Speaking of excelling," Lee said, scooping a spoonful of something that looked vaguely like potatoes. "How does it feel to be back in command?"

"Feels good," William replied. "It's nice waking up and not having to wonder, 'What the hell am I going to do with myself today?' The CIC crew had a nice little hand-off ceremony for me, though it would have been nice to have you there. A lot of people commented on that."

"It wasn't my idea to miss it," Lee said. He took another bite and chewed slowly.

William chose not to pursue Lee's comment. "We've also been receiving a lot of 'Get Well' wishes for you from the civilian ships. Dee is putting them into a folder for you. I'll bring it by later today."

At mention of the well-wishes from the fleet, Lee winced. Word had gotten out to the whole flipping fleet? All he said to his father however was, "Thanks." He nodded toward the table by the head of his bed. "See what the deck gang did?"

Adama looked and then reached over to pick up the metal sculpture. He laughed. "That's pretty darn good."

"Cally dropped it off this morning," Lee said.

"_Cally_, huh?"

Lee nodded. "It's from the whole deck crew." Lee didn't notice the amused look on his father's face. He said, "I guess the Chief doesn't quite hate me so much any more."

That comment surprised William. "When did he ever hate you?"

Lee offered a self-deprecating grin. "Well, it was my fault. I didn't make a very good first impression with him."

"Maybe not," William said. "But you saved his life on Kobol. People tend to find that kind of thing endearing. Just like _Cally_ did on the Astral Queen."

Lee looked sideways at his father while he took another bite and saw the bemused look his father was giving him. Lee didn't comment.

Adama grinned silently. His son was so perceptive and eagle-eyed on some matters, but not where women were concerned. Lee really had no idea that Cally was smitten with him. Nope. Not any more than Lee realized that Kara was in love with him, William was certain.

"Has Kara been by today?" William asked.

"No," Lee answered. "But I've been hoping to see her. She's still furious with me, isn't she?"

"You know how Kara is," William said, placing the sculpted flowers back on the table. "The only emotions she isn't afraid to show are anger and sarcasm, so she disguises everything else as anger and sarcasm. She's not mad at you. She's worried about you. You gave her one heck of a scare."

"What about you?" Lee asked quietly. His eyes were turned down toward his food tray rather than up at his father.

"What about me?" William asked, resuming his seat by Lee's bed.

Lee turned his head toward his father. "Well... you're sitting here, talking to me... looking me in the eye. You haven't done that in weeks. Does this mean you don't hate me any more either?"

William sighed and removed his glasses, rubbing at the bridge of his nose. "Son, I have never hated you."

Lee shook his head doubtfully. "When Saul and I told you about the deal that we made to resolve the crisis with President Roslin and the Quorum... you hated me."

"I was angry," William countered. "But I never..."

"You couldn't even stand to be in the same room with me. You wouldn't look at me unless you absolutely had to. You sure as hell didn't want to talk to me."

William looked toward the ceiling for a moment. "Lee please... let's not do this now."

Lee dropped his spoon onto the food tray, frustration written across his face. "Right. Sorry. I let myself start to hope that maybe... just maybe now you might be willing to listen to me. My mistake. I should know better."

William looked back toward his son, but Lee was no longer looking at him. He could almost see that old barrier wall rising between them again. He tried to reach over that wall before the height grew too impassable. "Lee, I just don't want us to get into another sparring match while you're still so weak."

Lee shook his head frowning. "Don't want to push the loon over the edge. Is that it?" He faced his father again. "I'm a lot stronger than you think. I always have been."

"I've never thought you were a loon."

"You still think I tried to kill myself though, don't you?" When his father didn't answer, Lee nodded with a knowing smirk.

William slipped his glasses back on and leaned forward in the chair toward his son. "I am trying to bring a counselor on board. They'll become a full-time staff member for anyone who wants to schedule appointments. But my primary purpose will be to get you signed up for counseling as soon as possible."

Lee winced, his shoulders sagging. "I... didn't... do it," he stressed quietly.

"Son, _whatever_ happened to you, I think it will help you to talk about it with a professional. Hell, after everything that's happened I should sign the entire crew up for psych evals."

"But me most of all," Lee said bitterly.

"Yes, you most of all," William confirmed sternly. "You're my son and I nearly lost you, possibly in part because... because I don't know how to talk to you. I want to help you Lee, but obviously I don't really know how to go about it, so I am trying to find someone who can."

"And if I don't want to get my head dissected?"

"Too bad," Adama declared. "Dr. Cottle can declare you physically fit for duty, but I will not allow you back on the job until you've been examined and also declared psychologically fit."

Lee looked challengingly at his father. "And if this shrink is convinced that I'm not suicidal, you'll accept that?"

William was thoughtful for a moment, but then he nodded. "Yes."

"You won't demand a second opinion? Or a third? Or however many it takes to find someone willing to go along with your preconceived conclusions?"

William replied, "I will abide by the doctor's evaluation. And I will require _you_ to do the same. Regardless of how it happened, the fact is that five nights ago you almost died Lee. Something like that is going to have an effect on you and you can't just pretend otherwise."

"And you would apply that same criteria to _anyone_ in a similar situation?"

"Yes I would," Adama said.

Lee raised a skeptical eyebrow. "What about yourself?"

Adama was caught off guard by that question.

Lee told him pointedly, "You just recently had a near-brush with death yourself Dad. Are you going to go through counseling and abide by the shrink's recommendation about you?"

A staring match ensued between father and son. Neither blinked. Neither looked away. Finally, without breaking eye contact William Adama said quietly, "All right. Yes, I will." He stood up and without further word to his son he walked away.

Lee stared after his father's retreating back, feeling anything but triumphant in their ongoing battle of wills. After a few more seconds, Lee grabbed for the paper bag beside his food tray and vomited up his lunch. He wiped his mouth and let his forehead rest in his hands for a few minutes. "Frak," he muttered.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

Starbuck took a deep breath of fresh air after she slipped her flight helmet off. The air on board Galactica was recycled countless time, but it always felt fresh and clear compared to the stifling environment that built up inside a flight suit after hours on patrol. She handed her helmet off to the crewman attending her ship and climbed out of her Viper.

"Cally," Starbuck called out to the young woman who was leading the team inspecting her Viper.

"Yes Sir?" Cally responded.

"That forward port maneuvering jet is getting twitchy again," Starbuck said crossly. "Can you make sure it actually gets fixed this time?"

"Will do Sir," Cally replied efficiently. Cally knew not to take any of Starbuck's grumblings personally. The lieutenant chewed everybody's asses these days. Hell, even in the old days before the war, Starbuck had never been free with a compliment. You only knew that everything was working when she _didn't_ complain. And with these old Mark II Vipers, it was near to impossible to keep them fully functional. The ships were relics of a war long-over and they should have all been retired to museums decades ago. In fact, they actually _were_ museum pieces that had been re-commissioned out of pure dire necessity. The fact that any of them were considered remotely flight-worthy was a proud testament to the exceptional skills of Cally and her crewmates.

Cally asked, "Any issues with the topside engine?"

Starbuck looked at her bird while pulling off her flight gloves. "No. Not this time."

Cally had known that would be the case. If there had been problems, Starbuck would have mentioned it. Still, Cally hadn't been able to resist fishing for compliments. None came. No surprise. The only pilot who had ever offered an unsolicited compliment to her or the deck crew was Apollo.

"Lieutenant? Will you be stopping by to visit with Captain Adama?" Cally asked.

Starbuck blinked. "I don't know," she said. "I have a lot of work to do." Starbuck shifted uncomfortably.

Cally was puzzled. "But I thought you two were friends."

"We are," Starbuck said defensively. "What's your point?"

"Well, I just figured that with the two of you being friends, that you'd drop in to visit with him."

"Whether I do or not, how is that your concern?"

Cally was taken aback by Starbuck's barely restrained hostility. "I just, um... I saw him yesterday morning, and he looked a little lonely."

"And?"

"And... he asked me to do him a favor. I thought that you would probably be going to see him, and you might be willing to let him know that I'm spreading the word, just like he asked me to."

Starbuck took a while to respond. Cally had visited with Lee, and Lee had asked her a favor? Starbuck felt another pang of guilt. She'd felt them a lot lately where Lee was concerned. But...

"Spreading the word about what?" she asked Cally.

"That it wasn't suicide," Cally replied. "It's weird isn't it? Most folks actually seem happier to find out that we have a murderer among us than to think that our CAG tried to kill himself."

"What?"

"I know it's strange," Cally said. "But... Captain Adama has been such a rock for everybody lately. And if _he_ couldn't take it anymore... you know, what hope do the rest of us have?"

Starbuck shook her head incredulously. "Cally, wait... back up. You've been going around telling people that someone tried to kill Lee?"

Cally nodded. "Yeah."

"Why the frak would you do that?" Starbuck almost yelled.

"He asked me to," Cally replied, standing her ground. "He didn't want that silly suicide rumor to keep spreading and..."

"Rumor? Cally it wasn't a rumor," Starbuck declared.

"Fine," Cally shrugged. "We can call it a mistake then, but it wasn't true so..."

"Yes, Cally it is!" Starbuck rolled her eyes and paced in a circle. She reached over and grabbed Cally by the arm, hauling her toward the tool room. Inside the room, Starbuck did a quick spot check to confirm that they were alone, and then she closed the hatch.

"Cally, it was suicide," Kara told her. "Whatever the hell you're telling people... knock it off!"

Cally shook her head, amazed. "It wasn't suicide," she said stubbornly. "I'm not making this up or hearing it second-hand. Captain Adama told me himself."

Kara groaned in exasperation. "He doesn't know what he's saying."

Cally crossed her arms defiantly. "He looked pretty damn sane to me."

"I'm not saying he's crazy."

"Then what are you saying?"

"He's in denial."

Cally pondered for a few moments, then shook her head. "I don't think so. I believe him. And I can't understand why you don't. I thought you were his friend."

"I am his friend," Kara said darkly.

"Then why can't you trust him?"

Kara let out a long breath. "Cally... I was with him that night... practically right up until he did it. He wasn't himself. The truth is, he hasn't been himself in a long time. I've known Lee for many years now. But ever since I got back from Caprica, he's been a different person."

"So what?" Cally challenged. "How _could_ he be the same person after all that's happened? You haven't just shrugged off your experiences on Caprica, have you? How could expect Apollo to disregard everything that happened here? With the fleet, with his father... with _you_. Or did you just think that you were the _only_ one who's had a rough time lately?"

"Of course not," Starbuck grumbled. "I know he's been through a lot."

"Yes," Cally agreed. "He has. But one thing that has never changed about him through all of it... is his integrity. Above anybody else in this fleet, he is a man of honor and I would trust my life to that. He's never lied before and he's not lying now."

Kara studied Cally's defiant face carefully. She had long suspected that the young specialist was sweet on Lee. Now Kara was certain of it. In a much gentler tone than before, Kara said, "Cally, I'm not saying that Lee is lying. I'm saying that he doesn't remember what the truth is."

"Neither do you," Cally said quietly, but sharply. "You didn't see it. What makes _you_ a better judge of what happened than him? At least he really does know what's going on in his own mind. And how can you call yourself his friend when you're not even willing to give him the benefit of the doubt?"

Kara just stared back at Cally, silently.

"I believe him," Cally declared, then turned her back on Starbuck and left the lieutenant standing by herself in the tool room.

Kara stood motionless for a long time, then she solemnly trudged back toward officers' quarters. With every step, the voices of debate swirled around in her head.

_Cally is right. _

_No, Lee is sick and he needs help._

_He was tired. _

_He wanted to die. _

_He just wanted a nap. _

_He wanted death! He gave away all of his money, for crying out loud._

_Money is worthless._

_Lee would have fought an attacker, but Frosty and Stinger were right there in the room. They didn't hear a thing._

_Maybe he didn't have time to fight back?_

_He had time. Not long, but time enough to make a noise. They would have heard._

_What if they did?_

Kara was brought up short by that thought. Her pulse quickened even as her hand reached for the handle to the hatch at her quarters.

_What if they did? What if they did?_

As soon as she yanked the hatch open her mouth went dry. Frosty was in there, suiting up for his turn in the cockpit. Kara plastered on her best triad face and stepped inside, pulling open buckles and zippers to remove her flight suit. "Hey Frosty," she greeted him calmly.

"Hey Buck," he replied with a polite nod. "Quiet CAP?"

"Yup," she said, pulling open her locker door. She positioned the door so that she could observe Frosty behind her in the mirror. "Not a peep out there. Hey Frosty... you know I don't think I ever thanked you... for your help the other night."

The big pilot shrugged, slipping one thick arm into a sleeve. "Hey it was no big deal," he said.

"You're wrong," Kara told him. "Just another few minutes and Lee... Apollo would have been brain dead."

"Yeah," Frosty said quietly. "Scary thought huh? But Stinger was the one who did CPR. I just handled the heavy lifting."

"Yeah," Kara said. She remembered what Colonel Tigh had said about Lee just the day before. "Apollo's no lightweight," she said to Frosty. "He's a lot heavier than he looks, isn't he?"

"Sure is," Frosty agreed.

"Yeah, I could never have lifted him by myself."

"It's a job for two, no doubt."

"Good thing there were two people here, huh?"

"Right."

"Yeah. Good thing that you and Stinger were here... instead of being back in the rec room with the rest of the squadron."

"Well, you know how cranky Stinger is if he doesn't get at least 6 hours of beauty sleep. A ten-hour CAP with a cranky Stinger is not a fun way to spend the morning."

"I just wish... I wish one of you had seen or heard something though."

"Yeah," Frosty sighed. "So do I."

"Seems funny doesn't it? Apollo went ahead with it, with the two of you so close by... knowing that if you saw _anything_, you'd stop him." Kara watched Frosty intently in the mirror. He didn't show any reaction. He just finished zipping up his flight suit. "But," Kara said, "I guess the way the two of you were snoring, he could probably have danced a jig on the table without fear of waking you up."

Frosty let out a sudden, deep belly laugh. "Now _there_ is a mental image I would never have come up with on my own."

"Hey," Kara claimed, "Apollo's actually got some pretty good moves... once you get him drunk enough."

Frosty grinned at Kara and cocked his head. "And... how would you know?"

She shrugged, returning the grin. "Apollo and I go way back. I've seen him in some very compromising situations."

Frosty smirked. "Are we talking about the same Apollo? Sounds like a totally different person to me."

Kara's eyes drifted from Frosty in the mirror to the photograph she had taped just below. In the picture, she was standing, hugging Zak, with Lee beside them holding a Pyramid ball in his hands. It had been an afternoon of fun and games at the academy while Lee was on break from War College. Years had passed since then. No, it was a _lifetime_. "Yeah," she told Frosty sadly, "he's changed a lot."

Frosty appeared thoughtful. "I guess that's what happens when everything around you goes to hell and the weight of the whole world gets dumped on your shoulders. You either harden up to carry the load... or you break."

Kara stared at Lee's face in the photograph. "Some loads just can't be carried alone."

"Yeah, maybe not." Frosty gave Kara a wave. "Gotta go Bucko."

Kara gave her pilot a thumbs-up. "Be careful out there."

When Frosty had passed through the hatch and closed it behind him, Kara slumped down onto her bunk and dropped her head into her hands. "Get a grip Kara," she growled to herself. "Sergeant Hadrian already interviewed both Frosty and Stinger and found nothing suspicious. Besides, you know Frosty. He eats Cylons for lunch but he's as loyal as a lapdog. He would never have hurt Lee."

_Sharon shot the Commander._

Kara abruptly shoved herself back to her feet and grabbed her shower kit and towel out of her locker. She slammed the door shut, silencing the battling voices in her head by pure determination. Before she left the room however, her eyes caught on Lee's empty rack... where she had found Lee dead.

_He killed himself._

_They killed him._

"Shut up!" she snarled at the whispers that were trying to gain her attention once more, and she stormed from the room.

* * *

Commander Adama read through the list of the doctor's qualifications then looked at her over the top edge of his clipboard. "You were a marine?" he asked dubiously. 

"That's right," she confirmed. "Retired as a master sergeant after 20 years of service."

Adama looked at the woman. He just couldn't imagine it. Dr. Edith Marsh looked like his grandmother. She was silver-haired, slender, and had a kindly smile that accentuated her bright green eyes. She looked like she had spent her life baking cookies and telling bedtime stories. "And... you've served on a battlestar before?"

"Yes, Commander. Four years on board the Pegasus," she replied in a tone of voice that sounded more accustomed to singing lullabies than barking orders to marines.

Adama couldn't manage to mask his skepticism. "Under whose command? Cain?" If Dr. Marsh was embellishing her resume with fantasies, the name of Commander Garris Cain would be the most likely one she would try to drop. However, William Adama had known Garris Cain personally, and Cain, like Adama, had not reached the rank of Commander until long after the First Cylon War.

Dr. Marsh rolled her eyes. "Cain? Oh Gods no. Back then Cain was still popping his zits and having wet dreams. Commander Derrick Collins was in charge for the first 18 months. He was killed in action and replaced by Commander Karen Monmouth."

Adama stared at the sweet-looking little old lady, scarcely believing she had just casually spoken about "Bulldog" Cain's wet dreams. "And um, after you retired from the military, you went into private practice."

"Part time," she confirmed. "My time was split between private practice and a staff position at Delphi University Medical Center."

"Until you retired... 5 years ago?"

"Yes."

Adama put down the clipboard and leaned forward with his arms on his desk. "And why are you interested now in coming out of retirement?"

"Because my quilting circle got blown to hell a few months ago," she replied with a completely straight face.

Adama stared at the woman, having no idea what to think of her.

After several seconds, Dr. Marsh broke into a smile and laughed. "Seriously Commander, I know what you're thinking. This is a military vessel. A warship. My patients here would be tough-ass soldiers. We are at war. This is the most dangerous ship in the fleet to reside on. And I don't look tough enough to handle any of it. Well frak that notion, Sunshine. I'm up to it. I was dodging Cylon bullets before you were, and I have no illusions whatsoever about the realities of war and how terrible it can be. I've seen firsthand what it does to people, physically and mentally. I did this job for 45 years, military and civilian, and I know damn well it's not pretty. Why would I want to come back to it? Because it's the only way I can fight back. You don't know what it's like to be caught in the midst of a combat zone and not be able to fight, or to be able to actively support the people who do. I know it's dangerous here, but it's not like I really have anything left to lose and I know that I can do some good for your people. If I can help keep your people going, then they can keep giving those fraking Cylons bloody hell."

Commander Adama's face broke into a broad grin. He stood up from his chair and extended his hand. "Dr. Marsh, welcome to the Galactica." The ship's new resident psychiatrist stood up and shook the commander's hand. They both resumed their seats. "How soon will you be ready to begin work?"

"I have a few suitcases to retrieve from the Rising Star, but I can get started whenever you need me. Anybody in particular you'd like me to start with?"

"Actually yes," the commander said. "You have... 2 patients already awaiting your expertise."

"And who are these unfortunates?"

"Me and my son."

The doctor's face registered surprise. "Really? Well this job could be more fun than I thought," she teased.

"In all seriousness Doctor, I am very worried about my son. There are undoubtedly dozens of people on this ship who would do well to receive some counseling, but Lee is the only one I'm _requiring_ it for at this time."

"Yet, you also mentioned yourself."

"I agreed to do it in order to make the whole process a little more palatable for my son."

"I see. And why is he being pushed to the top of the patient roster?"

"He attempted suicide 6 days ago." The doctor nodded solemnly at the news. The commander added, "Unfortunately, he doesn't remember doing it, and is in a full-blown state of denial about it."

"What's his physical condition?" she inquired.

"He's still in sickbay for the time being, but our ship's physician, Dr. Cottle, has determined that there was no permanent damage done. Physically, he should be fine in just a few more days. Dr. Cottle is also assuming that Lee's memory loss is not physical in nature."

"Is his memory loss limited to the suicide attempt alone?"

"It appears to be, yes."

Dr. Marsh nodded. "Dr. Cottle is probably right then, but I'd like to double-check his test results. What was your son's... method of choice?"

"A Red Needle," Adama said solemnly. "That's what we call the...

The doctor waved off the commander's explanation. "I know all about them Commander," she said, reminding him of her own military service. "Your son is very fortunate to have survived."

"He was found by a friend within just a few minutes, but it was a very close call just the same."

The doctor nodded her understanding. "I have many more questions, of course, but I'd like to at least acquire a notebook of some sort to keep track of the details before we go any further."

"Of course." Adama nodded, standing up from his chair. "Is there anything else that we can provide for you?"

"A portable voice recorder, if you have one."

"We can take care of that."

"And... a _private_ office with adequate interview space."

"Not a problem."

Commander Adama made introductions in sickbay the very next morning. "Doctor Marsh, this is my son, Captain Lee Adama. Lee, this is Doctor Edith Marsh. Dr. Marsh is our new ship's counselor. Her resume is quite impressive, including a 20-year term of service in the Marine Corps."

Lee nodded politely and extended his hand to the doctor. "So you're the one who will be evaluating me and determining whether I should be returned to service or placed in a straight-jacket?"

"That's right," she confirmed with a sweet grandmotherly smile while shaking Lee's hand. "So don't frak with me Junior." Lee's eyes bugged a bit from surprise but he made no comment.

The elder Adama bit back his grin over the look on Lee's face. "As soon as Doctor Cottle feels you are up to it, you'll be meeting with Dr. Marsh every day for at least a week. At the end of that week, she will report her recommendation to me as to whether or not she feels you are fit for duty. That is my requirement as your commander. If she determines that you require additional counseling, you will be required to comply with her recommendation. If you're cleared for duty you can always continue seeing the doctor as appropriate, but that will be strictly between you and Dr. Marsh."

Lee nodded and regarded the doctor. "So, I have one week to convince you that I'm not a nutcase."

Dr. Marsh smiled at her patient. "If you're a nutcase it won't take a week for me to figure it out. But that's a different issue. What we need to determine is whether or not you could be a danger to yourself if placed back into potential combat status."

Lee raised an eyebrow. "Will I ram the enemy instead of shoot, you mean?" His eyes shifted to fix upon his father's face. "I never tried to before." The commander just returned his son's gaze with a stoic expression.

"Glad to hear it," Dr. Marsh replied. She sat down in a chair beside Lee's bed and took a notebook from her briefcase. "Thank you Commander," she said. "I think we can take it from here." William Adama nodded then regarded his son silently for a few seconds before turning and walking away. The doctor's eyes flicked back and forth between father and son as she slipped a small voice recorder from her briefcase and fiddled with the controls.

"Have you two been butting heads for long?" Dr. Marsh asked Lee.

"Since the dawn of time," Lee sighed.

She nodded and placed the recorder on Lee's bed tray. "Do you mind? It helps cut down on the scribbling."

Lee shook his head. "No, I don't mind. But you still have a notepad."

"That's for the extras that the voice recorder can't catch."

"I see," Lee muttered. He sighed tiredly. "Doctor Marsh, before we go picking my brain apart over unresolved childhood issues, can I be blunt with you?"

"Always," she said sternly. "I'll expect nothing less."

"All right." Lee scooted a bit more upright in bed. "I have primarily one goal in mind while talking to you: to convince you that I am not suicidal, so that you can convince my father. Unfortunately the only way that I think I'm going to accomplish that is to remember what happened that night. Until I can point a finger at the person who tried to kill me, I'm afraid everyone will just keep pointing fingers right back at me. So... what can you do to help me remember?"

"Well, there are some steps we can take to try to stimulate your memory. Have you ever undergone hypnosis?"

"No," Lee said. "And to be honest, I'm pretty skeptical about it."

Dr. Marsh smiled. "Relax Lee. Do you mind if I call you Lee?

"No, I don't mind."

"Well, don't worry Lee. I'm not going to claim that hypnosis is the magic cure-all that some claim it to be. The fact is that a person can not be hypnotized without their consent, and some people simply can't be hypnotized at all. Even in a state of hypnosis, people can not be compelled to do things against their will. So you don't need to worry that I'll have you running through the ship in your skivvies squawking like a chicken just for my own amusement."

Lee laughed lightly. "Glad to hear that." This little old lady was a pleasant surprise to him. He'd feared that he would be drilled about his dreams and unfulfilled sexual fantasies by some trollish-looking man with no sense of humor. This psych eval might not turn out to be quite so much of an ordeal after all.

Dr. Marsh told him, "If you're still not comfortable with the idea of hypnosis, we can try to recreate the environment of the event."

"Return to the scene of the crime?"

"Exactly. Memories can be triggered by visual stimuli, sounds, and even smells."

Lee looked down at the IV tube still connected to his hand. "Unfortunately I don't know how soon they'll let me out of here."

"Are you able to eat solid foods?"

Lee grimaced. "I can eat it. It just doesn't stay down."

"Been up for a walk yet?"

"A short one yesterday, just around the bay here."

"Did it tire you out?" Lee didn't answer. He just looked sheepish. "That's a yes. First things first Lee."

Lee let his head fall back against the pillows. Frustration was written across his face. "Why can't I remember?"

"Well, the simplistic answer is that you don't want to yet."

"Yes, I do."

"Subconsciously you don't. It's what is referred to as psychogenic or hysterical amnesia."

Lee grimaced. "_Hysterical_?"

Marsh smiled sympathetically. "It's just the terminology. Essentially, you have experienced a traumatic event that your mind is having difficulty dealing with. The good news is that you can probably expect to see at least some memory returning soon."

Lee perked up. "How soon?"

"Memories usually start to return within just a few days. It can happen slowly in bits and pieces, or it could all come back quite suddenly. It's also possible that your memory of the event could remain incomplete."

"For how long?"

"Permanently."

Lee winced. "Great."

"It all depends upon you I'm afraid. Everybody's different. Some folks just bounce back easier than others, but it also depends greatly on just how emotionally traumatic the event was... and how able you are to fully accept the truth. It's a defense mechanism. You're trying to protect yourself."

"From the truth?"

"From the pain," Dr. Marsh said gently.

Lee considered what she'd said. "Then... isn't that an indicator right there that this wasn't suicide? If I _wanted_ it to happen... why would I be defending myself from remembering?"

Dr. Marsh nodded thoughtfully. "That's a good question."

"And why now?" Lee asked. "What I mean is... there have been a lot of things happening lately that maybe I wouldn't mind forgetting about. But I can't. Surely this can't have been worse than living through the annihilation of 99 percent of the human population... or watching my father get gunned down in front of me by someone I trusted and was responsible for."

"It could be the cumulative effect," Dr. Marsh told him. "You're still coming to terms with those other events, still trying to deal with them... and then _one more_ thing happens. Your mind might just be saying, 'Enough already!'"

Lee rubbed at his forehead. "So I have to deal with everything _else_ before my mind will let me deal with _this_?"

"Not necessarily," she replied, scribbling a few notes. "As the perceived shock or danger of the events becomes more remote, your memories could return regardless of what other issues you may still be dealing with. Of course, it certainly won't do you any harm to work on coming to terms with those other issues as well."

Lee observed the doctor and saw her making notations in the notebook. "I just gave you a few items for our agenda, didn't I?"

Dr. Mash smiled at Lee and gave him a wink. "Smart boy."

A patient in a bed across the aisle began coughing roughly and one of the nurses hurried over to check on him. Lee looked around, suddenly very cognizant that there were many other people in the vicinity. "Can't we do this somewhere more private?"

"We will," she told him. "This was just the meet-and-greet. Your father is providing me with an office. As soon as Doctor Cottle approves it, we'll talk there."

"So this doesn't count as session number one?"

"Nope. You got a freebie." Sensing that Lee wasn't comfortable continuing their conversation at the present time, she began gathering her things. "I'm going to drop in and have a chat with Dr. Cottle about you. Was there anything else you wanted to ask... or be blunt about?"

Lee was thoughtful, but then eyed the grandmotherly doctor mischievously. "Have you ever made anyone squawk like a chicken?"

With her face deadpan, she replied, "Only during sex."

Lee cracked up laughing and offered her his hand again. "It was nice meeting you Doctor."

She shook his hand, breaking into a smile. "I'll see you soon Lee," she said.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

Too many flights. Not enough pilots. How many times had Kara heard Lee gripe about that very issue? He never complained in front of the rest of the squadron. Lee never complained to his superiors either. Only Kara had ever heard Lee grumble about his duties. To the rest of the crew he was the dutiful captain with the stiff upper lip who never let obstacles throw him off his stride. If he had to shift direction or make adjustments to get the job done he would simply do it, without even breaking pace. He was the reliable constant amidst the chaos.

Kara alone had seen Lee struggling. Only in front of her did he allow his guard to slip when the strain was getting to him. When that happened, Kara usually responded with her typical needling rather than taking the situation seriously. She wished now that she had simply offered sympathetic support instead. Now that the job was hers, the task of trying to reconcile the flight schedules was proving to be damn near impossible and a sympathetic ear would have been very welcome. Lee had been right. They just didn't have enough pilots! How the frak could they expect to defend the fleet when they could barely maintain a minimum patrol and a standby alert team?

"Good afternoon Lieutenant Thrace. My, don't you look lovely today?"

Kara cringed. Doctor Baltar's syrupy chipper voice raked on her nerves in precisely the wrong way. Without looking away from the whiteboard on the briefing room wall, she said, "What's up Doc? Considering a career change by any chance? Hot Dog needs a wingman day after tomorrow."

Sauntering down the aisle toward the front of the briefing room, Baltar said, "Tempting... but no. Sadly I was forced to accept long ago that my talents don't extend to the fine art of ass kicking. Actually, I was just about to head down to the rec room and see if anyone was interested in a game of cards. I thought you might like to join me."

Still studying the whiteboard and comparing the figures with the rosters on her clipboard, Kara declined. "Thanks for the invite Doc. But no." It had been several days since Kara had touched a deck of cards. The last time she'd played had been that game with Lee... just before he'd... She shoved that thought from her head and scribbled a few more names onto the board.

"Busy, are you?" Baltar asked.

"You _are_ a genius," she said, still writing.

"Well, how much longer do you think this will take?" he asked. "We can always wait for a bit."

Kara flipped a page over on her clipboard. "Got a lot to do Doc. It'll be a while."

Baltar muttered over his shoulder, "I don't think so."

"Excuse me?" Kara said.

Baltar jerked slightly. "I don't think... that would be a problem. How long do you suppose it will take?"

"As long as it takes," Kara told him. Couldn't the guy take a hint? "I'm sure you won't have any trouble finding somebody to play with you. Now excuse me, I have work to do."

Baltar again muttered, with his head half-turned over his shoulder. "You _are_ the only one..." He stopped and turned to face toward Kara again. "...the only one on this ship who can make a card game reasonably interesting. It's just too easy with everyone else. Sometimes a fellow likes a challenge. In other words, I believe you are worth waiting for."

Kara rolled her eyes. "If you want to wait, go ahead. It might be until hell freezes over, but that's your problem."

"I see. Very well." Baltar started to turn and walk back up the aisle, but then stopped. "And how is Captain Adama fairing today?"

Kara paused in the midst of writing, surprised by the inquiry. "Last I heard he was doing fine. I assume he still is."

"You assume?" Baltar asked. "You haven't seen him today then?"

"Nope," she said simply.

"Really?"

Kara let out an annoyed breath. "I've – been – busy. Not that's it any of your business."

Baltar said smoothly,. "I was merely curious about his condition, and I thought..."

"Thought what?" Kara interrupted crossly.

"Well, knowing how _close_ the two of you are, I thought that you would be the knowledgeable authority on his recovery... checking up on him... spending your spare time with him..."

Kara turned an angry eye on the scientist. "You know where sickbay is. If you're really so interested in Lee's recovery you can visit him yourself."

"Yes, I may just do that."

"Enjoy," Kara sneered and turned back to the whiteboard.

"Oh yes, I shall," Baltar said, oddly speaking over his shoulder as though addressing some invisible figure standing behind him. He took a few steps closer to Kara. "You know I've never actually conversed with someone who recently attempted to _kill_ himself. I certainly wouldn't want to say anything inappropriate that might... push him over the edge again. Is he still a danger to himself?"

It was only by a supreme act of will that Kara didn't toss the clipboard aside and flatten the doctor with a right hook. In a chilly voice she said, "I haven't seen him. Okay? I wouldn't know."

Baltar merely offered her what appeared to be an approximation of a sympathetic smile before nodding and walking away. Kara heard him mutter quietly under his breath, "Isn't that a shame? Oh, now that's just rude."

Kara clenched her jaw until the doctor had left the room. "How rude do you think you'd find a boot to the balls Doc?" Kara then shivered. "Gods, how did I ever end up in bed with that guy?"

* * *

Lee had marginally better success with lunch this time. They hadn't given him regular food exactly. It was only simple chicken broth, but so far his stomach was handling it. After the broth, Lee had asked for something more substantial, but the most that the medics were willing to give him was a cup of bland applesauce. If he could handle that all right, they would consider giving him something more solid for dinner. So far, so good. The applesauce wasn't causing him any problems either. 

After lunch, Lee was looking forward to getting up and taking another walk. They wouldn't let him up until one of the male nurses could be on hand to help, just in case, so he sat up in bed waiting. As he waited, a very unexpected visitor dropped by. Doctor Gaius Baltar walked smoothly over and stood smiling at Lee.

"Well, Captain Adama," Baltar said in a brightly cheery tone. "You don't look at all like a man who nearly died a week ago."

Lee looked at the fleet's resident scientific genius and tried to mask the incredulity from his face. "Thanks Doc. Good of you to say so."

"How are you feeling?"

"Good. I should be back on my feet and up and around any day now."

"Wonderful. That's just wonderful to hear."

To Lee's ear, the doctor sounded just a tad too enthusiastic. Baltar was such an odd duck though, that Lee had never quite been able to figure him out.

"You are happy to be up and well again, aren't you?" Baltar asked.

"Yes," Lee told him in measured tones. "Of course."

"Yes, yes, yes, of course. Still though, it must be a bit of a shock."

"How's that?"

"Well, given that you didn't really expect to be up and around ever again."

Lee bit back a frown. "Look Doctor Baltar..."

"I can't say as I really blame you."

"Excuse me?" To Lee's utter amazement the scientist actually sat down on Lee's bed and leaned close to Lee in order to speak to him in a conspiratorial whisper.

"I've had those moments myself," Baltar sighed.

"You have?" Lee replied.

"Yes." Baltar lowered his head, looking truly troubled. "I mean, everyone has their limits don't they? And everyone's limits are different. What's good for one person might drive someone else mad. For example, while I spend my entire day focusing upon issues of scientific importance, you are perfectly content to spend your time flying in circles. Do you see my point?"

"Not really."

"Everyone is different Captain," Baltar said. "Everyone's needs are different. And every individual must decide for themselves what it is that makes life worth living and no one else can really make that judgment for us."

"Oookay," Lee said. "And you've had moments when...?"

"When I wondered if there is any point left to it all. If life is nothing but an endless parade of tragedy and pain... is the struggle to survive really worth it? And just because somebody else can say, 'Yes, of course it's worth it,' does that mean that it's true for me? No. Only_ I_ can decide that. Nobody else really understands my private pain. Only I understand how difficult it is for _me_ to get out of the bed and face another day of hardship and turmoil."

"Doctor Baltar have you met Doctor Marsh yet?"

"Who?"

"Doctor Edith Marsh. She just joined Galactica's crew."

"Really? Another doctor on board. I'll have to make her acquaintance."

"I think you should."

"But getting back to what I was saying Captain, my point was that... you needn't be ashamed or embarrassed for doing what you felt was right for you. Just listen to the voice in your heart and trust it."

"I will," Lee said, trying very hard to keep his face utterly neutral. "Thank you Doctor."

"You're most welcome."

Lee shook the doctor's hand then watched him as Baltar strode from sickbay looking oddly pleased with himself. "And everyone is worried about _me_?" He shook his head.

Lee had to wait nearly another hour before Sergeant Kim arrived. "Captain, sorry I got delayed. Are you ready to go for your walk?"

Lee couldn't help chuckling. "I almost feel like I should bark in reply to that question." He swung his legs around and slipped easily off the edge of the bed onto his feet. Sergeant Kim took charge of the IV stand. Lee lifted his arm, checking to make sure the IV tube wasn't getting tangled, then felt the back of his hospital gown flapping open. He dropped his arm again. "Isn't there some way you could design these things to be a little less embarrassing?"

Sergeant Kim laughed. "Don't worry Sir. It's nothing we don't see around here all the time."

Lee took a few easy steps. "Well, I'm not used to being on display all the time."

"Not much point in clinging to modesty on a battlestar Sir," Kim chuckled. "But, if you're steady enough on your feet, the doctor will probably let you take a shower and change into normal clothes."

Feeling well, Lee kept walking and picked up the pace a little. "You mean he'd be willing to unplug me?"

"Temporarily," Kim told him.

A hot shower and normal clothes did sound mighty appealing to Lee. That simple prospect lifted his spirits considerably. It would also make these exercise walks a great deal easier if he didn't have to worry about mooning everyone in the room with every step he took.

Lee made a full circuit of the recovery ward without feeling the least bit wobbly. After a second lap completed and still feeling fine, Lee asked Sergeant Kim to recommend approval for that shower and wardrobe change to Doctor Cottle. The medic promised he would, but Lee would have to await the doctor's decision in bed. A while later, Doctor Cottle did indeed give his approval, for the next morning.

"Tomorrow?" Lee griped.

"That's right," Cottle replied.

"Why not today? I feel fine."

"Because I am the doctor and this is my domain. I am Lord, God, and Commander of all life within these rooms. That's why. Besides, we don't have another change of clothes for you to wear. Unless you want to swap with me, you'll have to wait until somebody can bring something by for you."

"Just call Lieutenant Thrace. She's one of my roommates. She knows where my things are."

"Will do."

Lee hoped that Kara would respond to the call promptly. He knew she was on duty, but what he was asking for wouldn't take her more than 10 minutes. If she came by soon enough, Lee thought he might not have to wait until morning to shower and change.

Lee was also eager just to see Kara. He hadn't seen her since that first day when he came out of the coma. He was disappointed that she hadn't come to visit him. When she'd been laid up in sickbay with her bum knee, Lee had dropped by every chance he had to keep her company and boost her spirits. He'd even made certain that he was available when she'd tried taking her first steps again. She hadn't made it even past the end of her bed, but he was there to support her and encourage her efforts. Lee had now been out of bed twice, with no support from his friend. He had no doubt that she was busy. He was very familiar with the workload, but surely 10 minutes wasn't too much to ask. He'd managed to find much more time than that for her.

Kara did not come by for the rest of that day. His father stopped by at dinner time, but by then Lee wasn't in a talkative mood. Their conversation was awkward and superficial. Neither of them wanted to touch upon any subject that might stimulate another argument, which unfortunately left very little for them to talk about. As his father was preparing to leave, Lee asked him to make sure that Kara had received the message about the change of clothes that he needed. If she had simply been too busy, the message might not have even reached her. The commander promised to pass the word along.

Kara did not come by the next morning either. Shortly after 09:00 hours, Frosty dropped by with Lee's sweatpants, tanks, socks, and a change of underwear. He even brought Lee's shaving kit. Lee was grateful for the delivery, but disappointed by the messenger, though he did his best not to let Frosty know that.

"Is there anything else that I can get for you Sir?" Frosty asked. "I have about another hour free if there's anything you need."

"No, Lieutenant, thank you," Lee said, climbing to his feet. "This was all I needed to get a pass into the shower."

Frosty offered Lee a broad smile. "It's really good to see you up on your feet again Sir. The squadron's going to be really happy to hear that you're up and around."

"Thanks Frosty," Lee told him.

One of the nurses unplugged the IV tube from the catheter, but left the catheter in place. Then she wrapped Lee's lower arm to keep the catheter dry while he showered. All the while, Frosty jabbered on about all the latest scuttlebutt and gossip on the ship. Ensign Davis was now tracking Hot Dog. Dualla had another hot date with the President's secretary a few days ago. Doctor Baltar was continuing his unbeaten winning streak at Triad, though Helo had given the doctor a good run last night.

"You wouldn't happen to know if Doctor Baltar has met Doctor Marsh yet?" Lee asked, curious.

"Oh yeah," Frosty chuckled. "I think he _just_ did. Last night, during the game he made a few comments about possibly meeting up with and wooing the new doctor on board. We just told him the basics. You know. She's slim, tiny, has beautiful green eyes, that kind of thing. Nobody told him she's old enough to be his grandmother. Well, she's set up her office right around the corner from here, and when I met up with him on my way in just now he was hanging out in the hallway, yammering to the bulkhead, 'That wasn't the least bit funny,'" Frosty said mimicking Baltar's accent.

Lee couldn't help laughing with Frosty. "I wish I could have seen that. Seriously though, I hope he does have a talk with her. He needs it a far sight more than I do."

The nurse finished wrapping Lee's arm. "All right Captain. That should do it."

"Thanks."

"You're still feeling steady and everything, right?" she asked him pointedly.

"Yes. I feel fine," he insisted. "I'll feel even better once I've had a shower."

"Would you like me to give you a hand Captain?" Frosty offered.

"What?"

"You know, just in case you start to get tired or dizzy," Frosty said.

"Thanks for offering," Lee said. "But no. I'll be fine."

"It's no trouble Sir," Frosty assured him. "I helped take care of my dad back home for several months after he had a heart attack. For weeks he insisted that he felt just fine and didn't need a hand, but then sure enough after just a few minutes his strength would just vanish and I'd have to step in and help him after all."

Lee beckoned for Frosty to lean closer. "Frosty, if I thought I might need help bathing, do you really think _you'd_ be the one I'd ask?"

Frosty glanced around taking note of the female nurses in the vicinity. "No Sir, I guess not."

"There's hope for you to make captain someday after all," Lee told him good-naturedly, gathering up his bundle of clothes and shower kit. "Thanks for coming by Lieutenant."

"You're welcome Captain. I hope we see you back in the briefing room soon, Sir." Frosty hung back as Lee headed for sickbay's shower facilities. "Yep, you really do need that change of clothes Captain," Frosty laughed heartily.

Lee self-consciously reached back and secured the backside of his hospital gown. Frosty just laughed harder.

Sickbay's facilities were not nearly as large as the heads scattered around the ship for general crew use, but they didn't need to be. Access was strictly controlled for supervised patient use only. Lee wasn't actually supervised while he was in the shower, but the time of his entry was observed and noted in a log book. He knew the nursing staff would be watching the clock and if they heard anything or if he loitered for long they would check on him. As soon as stepped under the stream of warm water he was tempted to linger and just enjoy it, but he didn't want to be a nuisance to the medical staff who had to hang around and keep tabs on him.

He soaped up his hair, and scrubbed his scalp hard. It felt very good. The staff had seen to his hygiene with sponge baths up to now, but a good hair washing was difficult to manage. He was careful about washing around the IV catheter, even though it was very thoroughly wrapped. The soap and water felt rejuvenating over his entire body, but as he rinsed off and toweled dry, he was surprised by how suddenly tired he felt. Lee had never expected a shower to be particularly strenuous, but Frosty's words were turning out to be oddly prophetic after all. He pulled on his clothes and contentedly tossed the hospital gown into a laundry basket by the door. Though he did feel oddly tired, he took the opportunity to shave at the sink anyway. Lee finally felt truly clean all over for the first time in several days.

He packed up his shaving kit and reached for the door. As soon as he stepped out, sure enough one of the nurses noted the time in a log. "Am I getting dinged for going overtime?" Lee asked them.

The nurses smiled at him. "Not quite. You're just under the wire. Feeling all right Captain?"

"A little tired," he admitted.

The nurse nodded. "Thought so. You look it. We'd better get you back to bed." She stepped over and guided him back toward his station. She wasn't really supporting him as he walked, but she was in position to assist if necessary.

Lee shook his head as he wearily sat back down on his bed. "This is really annoying. I used to run 10K's every morning before breakfast."

"We'll get you there Captain," she told him, unwrapping his arm. "You just can't expect it to happen overnight."

"Day after tomorrow?" he asked facetiously.

"Doubt it." She set the wrapping aside and reconnected the IV tube to the catheter in Lee's arm. Lee stretched out on the bed, relaxing and feeling well in spite of the unexpected fatigue. The nurse checked the IV flow then smiled at him. "Okay. You're all set here."

"Thanks."

"Why don't you try to take a nap before lunch?"

That sounded like a good idea to Lee and he closed his eyes with a tired sigh. With a few hours of sleep and a solid lunch, perhaps he could persuade them to let him take a longer walk that afternoon. Maybe he could even drop by the flight deck and see the crew for a few minutes. Frosty's visit had been nice, but Lee really wanted to check in on Kara. What was she...

Something wasn't right.

Lee felt an odd sensation in his arm. He dragged his eyes open. There was a cold tingling spreading up from the IV. He'd never felt that from the IV before, but it did feel... _familiar._ Lee suddenly couldn't quite catch his breath. His heart began pounding. His entire body felt suddenly cold. Lee grabbed for the tube and yanked at it, hard. There was something in the IV fluid. He was certain of it. It was even now flowing directly into his veins, killing him... _again_. With a desperate pull, Lee ripped the catheter right out of his arm. The abrupt tug on the tube sent the entire stand toppling over spilling the contents of the IV bottle, mingling the fluids on the floor with the blood flowing from Lee's arm. Dizzy and unable to catch his breath, Lee twisted around, fumbling for the call button. He tried to cry out at the same time but couldn't get enough air to do more than gasp. He thought that he found the button and pushed it, but he wasn't sure.

Either he'd succeeded or one of nurses witnessed what was happening and came running up to him. The next thing Lee became aware of was Doctor Cottle leaning over him while someone pressed an oxygen mask over his nose and mouth.

The doctor's voice sounded very distant and muffled to Lee. "Let's get an IV going in his other arm with 20 cc's of dyclomine. And get a warming blanket on him."

"The... I-V..." Lee tried to gasp.

"It's all right Captain," Doctor Cottle said to him. "You're going to be just fine. Just relax now."

The new IV was swiftly in place and medicines began once again flowing into his body. A warming blanket was placed over him and the doctor set about repairing the damage Lee had done to his arm. The arm was stitched and bandaged with expert efficiency by the time that Lee began to get control of his breath back.

After several minutes, Doctor Cottle checked Lee's pulse again. "Captain, would you like to tell me what happened?"

"There was something in the IV," Lee said, his words slightly muffled by the oxygen mask. "I could feel it."

The doctor reached over and removed the mask. "Can you catch your breath now?"

Lee nodded. "Yes," he said, though he still felt a little dizzy.

"What did you feel?"

"Cold, tingling, spreading up my arm. Then my chest felt tight and I couldn't breathe. My heart started pounding. I think... I think maybe that's what it felt like... when I was stuck by the Needle. I think someone just tried it again."

Doctor Cottle pursed his lips. "No Captain. This wasn't andropine poisoning. You'd be a lot worse off right now."

Lee shivered in spite of the warming blanket. "Whatever it was, it shouldn't have been in that bottle."

Doctor Cottle glanced down at the floor. The nurses had cleaned up the spill quickly and the area was already sanitized and dry. He pondered the situation for a few seconds then asked Lee, "Captain... have you regained any of your memory of the events that night?"

Lee shook his head. "No. Not yet."

"Yet, you think that what you just felt was the same as how it felt that night when you were poisoned."

"There was something familiar about it."

"I see." The doctor stood up straighter and crossed his arms. "The nurses were telling me that you were quite tired when you came out of the shower."

"It took more out of me than I expected," Lee admitted.

"And you were just about dozing off when this happened."

"Yes," Lee said, missing where the doctor was going with this.

"Captain what I think you just experienced was a kind of a flashback and in a vulnerable, half-asleep state, it felt very real to you."

"What?" Lee couldn't believe what he was hearing. "You think I was dreaming?"

"I think you're starting to remember."

"I couldn't breathe. That was no dream."

The doctor held up a placating hand. "I realize that. But your symptoms are all classic signs of a panic attack."

"What?" Lee tried to sit up but the doctor pressed him back down onto the bed.

"Doctor Marsh advised me to be on the lookout for signs of Acute Stress Disorder. Flashbacks, panic attacks... even your memory loss, are all part of the same package. And I can assure you that there was nothing wrong with that IV bottle."

"It could have been tampered with while I was in the shower."

"No one on my staff would have done that."

"Then someone else came in here and did it."

"Just like someone else snuck into your quarters and jabbed you with the Red Needle... totally unseen and unheard by everybody else."

Lee glared at the doctor. "Yes!" he declared firmly. "Exactly like that!" When the doctor shook his head doubtfully, Lee challenged him, "Then check the damn bottle! Take it to the lab and find out what the frak was in it!"

"The contents were spilled when you pulled it over. It's already been cleaned up," Doctor Cottle said waving a hand at the recently sanitized floor.

Lee groaned in frustration. "Great. Nice. Isn't that convenient?"

"Convenient for whom?" Doctor Cottle questioned him. "I wish I could test it and prove to you that everything was on the up and up. It would make this situation a lot easier on both of us. Unfortunately you'll just have to trust me. Captain I assure you that _everyone_ here is only trying to help you."

Lee settled his head back on the pillows. "I believe you Doc."

"You do?" Cottle sounded dubious.

"Yes. I believe everyone here in sickbay wants to help me. But there is someone out there... somewhere on this ship... who wants me dead."


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

Shortly after noon, Lee saw his father enter the main hatchway to sickbay. He watched the commander offer a congenial greeting at the nurses' desk where he was intercepted by Doctor Cottle. They spoke at length and Lee saw his father's expressions change several times and more than once both the commander and the doctor glanced over in his direction.

"Great," Lee murmured. "Just great."

Finally, the commander's conversation with Doctor Cottle ended and he strode toward Lee's bed. He offered Lee a somewhat less-than-genuine smile. "So how are you feeling Son?" William Adama asked Lee.

"I think you already know the answer to that," Lee said, moodily.

William pulled the chair over and sat down. "The doctor told me he thinks you're starting to get your memory back."

Lee frowned. "Let's not dance around the subject Dad. He told you I had a panic attack."

"Yes he did," William confirmed straightforwardly.

Lee shook his head. "That's not what happened. There was something in that IV."

William quietly regarded his son for several seconds. "Cottle said that you believe that."

"It's true."

Adama kept his voice calm and even. "But you know it couldn't have been andropine."

"I don't know what the frak it was," Lee said testily.

"Doctor Cottle said that a flashback could be a perfectly reasonable trigger for..."

"Reasonable," Lee scoffed quietly.

"... for what you experienced," Adama finished saying. He sat forward. "Lee... this could actually be considered a good sign."

Lee raised a skeptical eyebrow. "How do you figure that?"

"You're starting to remember," William pointed out.

"But there is someone on this ship who doesn't want me to remember," Lee said grimly. "Dad somebody tried to kill me. _Twice_." Lee saw the skepticism on his father's face. Bitterly he said, "But you'd rather think I'm nuts."

"I have never believed you are nuts," William said pointedly.

"Just suicidal. And now you think I've added 'delusional' to the list, not to mention 'paranoid'."

"We'll leave that for Doctor Marsh to decide," William said. "She's the psychiatrist."

"But you've already decided for yourself, haven't you?" Lee asked sharply. When William didn't readily reply Lee shook his head and looked away from his father.

William dropped his own gaze down. When he spoke next he was still looking at the floor. "Doctor Cottle thinks you're strong enough to start regular sessions with Doctor Marsh in her office tomorrow. I'll get you scheduled with her on my way out." When Lee didn't reply William finally looked up again. Lee still had his head turned away; bitterness displayed across his face.

"Rest up Son," William said.

Lee heard the scrape of the chair on the floor and knew that his father was getting up to leave, but he couldn't look at him. It was several more seconds before he heard his father's footsteps moving away. Apparently the commander had waited for some response from his son, but Lee couldn't offer him any. Lee kept his face averted from his father's direction until the sound of his footsteps had faded away.

"Frak," Lee muttered. "_Someone on this ship wants me dead and my own father won't lift a finger to do anything about it."_

_

* * *

_  
"And the Intersun Liner believes they will be ready to commence full production-level testing in their hydroponics labs by the day after tomorrow," Wallace Gray said.

"That's ten days ahead of schedule," Laura Roslin commented with a smile. "Well done."

"Very," Gray agreed.

"All right, anything else on the agenda Billy?" the President asked her secretary.

"Um, nothing on the official agenda," Billy declared. "However, I do have an update on that _personal_ project of yours."

Laura Roslin straightened up at that news. "Good, good. We'll discuss that in just a minute. Anything else, anybody?" She looked around at her collection of advisors. "No seconds? Okay. Wally, please let me know when you get those statistics from Representative Santini. Otherwise we can call this meeting adjourned. Thank you everybody."

The President's staff all gathered their things and began filtering from the conference room on Colonial One. Only Billy Keikeya, the President's secretary, held back. When they were alone in the room Billy fished a few pages out of his briefcase.

"I've been going over the wireless logs that Dee copied for me."

"You found something?"

Billy gave her a lopsided grin. "Maybe. It isn't much."

"Tom Zarek found out about Captain Apollo's attack before anyone else did. _Somebody_ had to tell him."

Billy gave a noncommittal nod. "Well, you were right when you said that you thought the Galactica was still monitoring and logging all wireless traffic going to and from the Astral Queen. And Dee confirmed that Commander Adama still has oversight of all such traffic before the logs are filed. On the night of Captain Adama's attack there was no communication at all between the Galactica and the Astral Queen."

"None?"

"No."

Laura was puzzled. "I thought you said you found something?"

Billy cleared his throat. "There _was_ a message sent that night just after 1:00am from the Geminon Traveler to the Astral Queen."

"Geminon Traveler?"

"Yes." Billy handed the President a sheet of paper showing the time and duration of the logged message.

"How does this help?" the President asked.

"Well," Billy explained, "if you were on Galactica and wanted to send a message to the Astral Queen without alarming the commander... wouldn't you need to relay it through a third party?"

Laura nodded. "That makes sense, but this is hardly evidence," she said, displaying the page for emphasis.

Billy handed her another sheet of paper. "Ten minutes earlier, someone did send a message from Galactica to the Geminon Traveler."

Laura studied the new page intently. She set both pages down and removed her glasses. After a few seconds of thoughtful silence, she asked, "How do we find out what those messages said?"

Billy looked very reluctant. "Someone would have to review the transcripts."

Laura looked pointedly at Billy. "Does Dualla have access to those transcripts?"

Billy frowned uncomfortably. "Probably... but..."

"But what?"

Billy answered firmly, "So does Commander Adama."

Laura gave Billy a sympathetic smile. "But you know that I can't ask him."

"Actually Madame President, I don't know that." Looking very disgruntled, he said, "Dee could get in trouble just for copying the traffic logs for me. I can _not_ ask her to do more than that."

Laura sat forward. "Billy, if this turns out to be real evidence of a plot to kill Captain Apollo, do you really think the commander will punish Dualla for helping to uncover it?"

"I don't know," Billy replied. "But don't you think that if this has the potential to actually be evidence of a plot to kill his son that the commander would want to know about it? Don't you think he _deserves_ to? I mean... if you really did find something concrete, you'd have to tell him anyway. Why not do it now?"

Laura took a deep breath. Holding up the two pieces of paper, she said, "If I have nothing more to present to the commander than this, he will _not_ listen to me and Dualla _could_ very well get into trouble. The man might very well have an all out conniption!"

"Now why would you think he might do that?" Billy asked sarcastically. "Could it be because you are going behind his back... again? Using his people and his resources without his permission... again? Wasn't our first trip down this path bad enough?" Billy was damn near shouting by the time he finished.

"Billy, I am doing this because I fear for Captain Apollo's life."

"I know that," Billy countered. "But I'm not the one who needs to hear it. Tell the commander, not me."

Laura dropped her head into her hands. "I can't. I can not speak with that man. I don't know how to talk to him."

"Maybe that's because you haven't had enough practice," Billy taunted. "And maybe it's about time the schoolteacher learned."

Laura groaned. "It is not that simple."

Billy shrugged. "I never said it would be simple. I just think it's necessary."

Laura sat back. "You're not going to budge on this are you?"

Billy thoughtfully shook his head. "No, Madame President I'm not. I will not ask anything more of Dee. If you really want to know the content of those messages... if it's really that important to you... you'll have to pursue it yourself."

* * *

"I'm losing him," William Adama said. "He's alive. He's recovering. He's getting stronger. And I'm still losing him." The commander sat down on the couch and let out a long sigh. "What am I doing wrong Doctor?" 

"Why are you so convinced you're doing something wrong?" Dr. Marsh asked, scribbling on her notepad.

"My son won't even look at me," William replied. "I'd say that's a problem."

"But why is it _your_ problem?"

"You think it's Lee's problem?"

"I didn't say that."

"What are you saying?"

"I'm not saying. I'm asking."

Adama rolled his eyes. "What is it about doctors on this ship that they can't just provide a simple answer? First Cottle, then Baltar, now you too."

"It's a conspiracy," Doctor Marsh said mischievously. "We all have to study the technique before being allowed to graduate."

Adama shook his head, smiling in spite of himself. "That I can believe. But seriously Doctor, what do I do? I swore that if he pulled through this, I would do whatever I had to do to help him, but when I try... it just seems like I'm making it worse."

"How exactly are you trying to help him?" Dr. Marsh asked.

Adama sat back, his eyes looking toward the far wall of Doctor Marsh's office, as if he could see right through the bulkheads and into sickbay down the hall. "A little while ago I just tried talking reason to him. I tried to stay logical and not get emotional. I laid out the facts. He took it like an insult."

Dr. Marsh suggested, "Perhaps Lee has a different perspective on what the facts are."

"But the evidence... the evidence does not logically support his conclusions. Why can't he see that? It's not like him."

"How so?"

William's expression grew wistful. "Lee was always the analytical one. His brother Zak... Zak was the dreamer. Zak was the one who always came up with the wild ideas and was constantly succumbing to distractions. Lee was the logical one. He was always focused, dedicated... rational."

"And how has that changed?"

William looked at the doctor, puzzled. "He tried to kill himself. That's not rational. It's insane. Now he's trying to deny it ever happened. That isn't sane either."

Doctor Marsh set down her notepad and removed her glasses. "Commander, let's make something very clear. Insanity and suicidal depression are very different things."

"Different?" Adama asked, perplexed.

"Yes," Doctor Marsh confirmed. "Insanity involves the inability to process and comprehend reality. With suicidal depression, an individual is overwhelmed by reality. Some forms of insanity can result in high-risk behaviors, but when we're talking about people who are suffering from suicidal depression, most of the time we are talking about completely sane people. Now where clinical depression and other affective illnesses are present, the physical impairments that are involved can lead to what we non-depressed individuals would consider faulty judgment. But in your son's case, based upon what I have learned from you and Doctor Cottle, it appears that the onset of the alleged depression is based not on existing physical causes but upon accumulating emotional traumas. In such cases, we are not talking about a disconnection from reality. We are dealing with people who have simply reached a point where reality has become deeply painful and they see no other way to escape the pain."

"They lose hope," William said quietly.

"Yes. Precisely."

"But what causes that to happen?" William asked. "Lee's always had a very optimistic nature. Why would that change?"

"Witnessing the near annihilation of the human race might put a damper on his sunny disposition. That's just a wild guess of course."

"Lee's handled it fine up till now."

"Are you sure?"

William was thoughtful for a few seconds, then he nodded. "Yes."

"You've talked to him about it then? You've talked about what it meant to him to lose his home, the Colonies, our way of life, his plans for the future...? You've discussed all that?"

"No," William conceded.

"What about friends and family? Did he lose anyone whom he was particularly close to?"

"His mother," William answered.

"Your wife?"

William shook his head. "We were divorced. She was even getting remarried."

Doctor Marsh silently noticed the wedding band that still resided on the commander's left hand. "What was her name?"

"Caroline," William said softly.

"Have the two of you talked about Caroline?"

William dropped his eyes to the floor. "No."

"Was he close to her?"

"Yes. Very."

"Has he taken the time to grieve for her?"

After a long pause William admitted, "I don't know."

"Was there a stepmother in the picture?"

William shook his head. "No."

Doctor Marsh added a few observations to her notepad. "Did he have a girlfriend?"

William shifted on the couch a little. "I don't think so. He's never mentioned one."

"Did you ever ask him?"

"No."

"What about friends, teammates, drinking buddies? Has he talked to you about any of those?"

"No," Adama replied, seeing a disappointing trend amongst his answers.

Doctor Marsh scribbled a few notes. She asked, "Would you say that he's been pretty busy since the Holocaust?"

Adama snickered. "Very."

"Perhaps too busy to give himself the time to process everything that's happened?"

"Perhaps."

"Has anything happened since the Holocaust that would also have been personally painful for him?"

"He's lost a lot of pilots," Adama said. "Lee's always taken a lot of responsibility for their well being. He takes their safety very personally."

"Has he lost any whom he was particularly close to?"

"Starbuck disappeared on us for a while," Adama said. "She and Lee have been close friends for several years now. But she made it back."

"But her absence may have been hard on him," Doctor Marsh said.

"Probably."

"You're not sure?"

"I spent a lot of the time unconscious while she was gone."

Doctor Marsh nodded, watching the commander's face very carefully. "So, this was just after you were shot?"

"Yes."

"What about the pilot who shot you? Was Lee friends with her?"

"Lieutenant Valerii." William spoke the name uncomfortably. "I don't know if it would be right to say they were particularly close, but they were certainly on friendly terms."

"He trusted her?"

"We all did." William's voice was deeply bitter.

Doctor Marsh scribbled again. "Anything else?"

William was thoughtful for several seconds. "Nothing comes to mind right now," he said finally.

"All right," Doctor Marsh said. "Well, what about Lee's future?"

"How do you mean?"

"What were his plans before the Holocaust?"

Adama looked surprised by the question. "He was a Viper pilot."

"And?"

"And what?"

"That's it? That's all he ever planned to be?"

Adama shrugged. "I imagine he planned to work his way up to the position of CAG somewhere and then progress into command staff on a battlestar."

"Just like you did?" Doctor Marsh smiled. "Did the two of you ever specifically talk about it?"

William pondered for a few seconds, then admitted, "No we didn't. Not exactly."

"Then you're not really sure what his plans were?"

"Lee never spelled it out to me but... he's a damn good pilot, he'd completed War College, and he was promoted to captain below the zone. That spells out 'Future Battlestar Commander' any way you look at it."

"Hmm," was all Doctor Marsh said. "And what about you?"

"What about me?"

"What were your plans?"

"My plans? What does that have to do with Lee?"

"You are his father. I assume your plans would have impacted his life in some way. You were retiring, correct?"

"Yes."

"Taking up golf?"

Adama shifted his position. "My home was here, on Galactica."

"Galactica was decommissioned."

"Even as a museum, she still needed a minimal crew on board to maintain her."

"And you were going to oversee that crew?"

"Yes."

"For how long?"

Adama looked back at the doctor for several seconds, growing uncomfortable. "I don't know," he finally said, gruffly.

"Couple weeks? A year or two?"

"Probably a couple of years at least."

"So this ship was your retirement home?"

"You have a problem with that Doctor?" Adama asked defensively.

"Do you?"

Adama pushed himself abruptly to his feet. "I came here to talk to you about my son."

"And we have talked about your son," Doctor Marsh said calmly. "But Lee is not the only factor of importance in your life Commander."

"This isn't about me," he said.

"Oh? You did agree to the same level of counseling and evaluation that you are requiring for your son," she reminded him.

Adama blinked. "But that's not what I'm here for now."

"Why not? Is there some reason you have to put it off?"

Adama shook his head and paced a little around the floor of Doctor Marsh's office. "I just wanted some guidance on talking to my son. Can you offer me that or not?"

A slow smile crept onto the doctor's face. "Were you listening to yourself Commander?"

"What?" he asked.

"If you want to help your son... and really talk to him... then try picking a subject that matters to him," she said pointedly. "You yourself just identified to me several items of considerable importance to him that you have not spoken to him about. Stop pretending that you don't know where to start. The fact is that you do already know."

Adama stood staring at the doctor. The meaning of her statement gradually began to sink in.

Doctor Marsh got up from her chair and approached the commander. "Those are difficult subjects, I know. They are painful subjects. But that's why they are so important, especially if he is in trouble and the pain of those issues is driving him toward suicide. If you want to help him, keep in mind that it's the _hard_ things he needs help with... not the easy ones."

Adama considered her words carefully then nodded his understanding.

"All right then," Doctor Marsh said, returning to her seat. She pointed at the couch. "Now sit your ass back down. I'm not done with you yet."


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

Lee handed off his empty food tray to the nurse with a satisfied grin. "Cleaned my whole plate. No bag needed."

The nurse offered him an amused smile. "Congratulations."

"That's two days in a row now," he reminded her.

"Yes it is, isn't it?" She was pretending to be surprised.

He held up his right hand where the IV was attached. "I really don't need this anymore."

The nurse just chuckled. "Let's just see what the doctor says."

Lee had to wait nearly an hour before Doctor Cottle dropped by on his morning rounds. The doctor took his time noting Lee's pulse and blood pressure while Lee tapped his fingers impatiently. Cottle finally slipped his hands into his pockets and gave Lee a knowing look.

"Rumor has it you're anxious to get unplugged," the doctor drawled. From one pocket he pulled out a fresh packet of cigarettes. From the other pocket he retrieved a lighter.

"Yes," Lee said firmly. "You said that once I was able to eat normal food again that..."

"I know full well what I said," Cottle told him, slipping one cigarette between his lips and lighting up.

"Then... can I go?"

Cottle blew out a stream of smoke with a pleased look on his face. "You are still a long way from having all your strength back. You still need a lot of rest."

"Fine," Lee said impatiently. "But I don't need a nursing staff to help me with that."

Cottle gave Lee a skeptical look. "You sure about that?"

"Positive."

"Even after yesterday?" Cottle asked with a keen look, reminding Lee about the episode that the doctor had declared as a "panic attack."

Lee let out a frustrated breath. "Positive," Lee repeated determinedly. When the doctor hesitated to provide an answer, Lee asked him suspiciously, "Did my father ask you to keep me here?"

The doctor sternly replied, "The commander does not make medical judgments. I do."

"That doesn't answer my question," Lee pointed out. "Did he ask you to keep me here, to keep an eye on me because he doesn't trust me on my own?"

"Captain, I'm not sure_ I_ trust you on your own," Cottle said bluntly.

"So he did ask you."

"Actually, no. He didn't."

Lee wasn't wholly convinced by the doctor's denial. "Then explain it to me Doc. What medical reason do you have for keeping here? What sort of treatment do I require from a trained medical staff at this point?"

The doctor took a thoughtful drag on his cigarette. "Well, if you were to experience any more episodes like you did yesterday..."

Lee interrupted. "There will _not_ be any panic attacks Doctor."

Cottle studied his patient's face. The determination he saw there was almost intimidating. In that regard, Lee Adama was very much like his father.

"Tell you what Captain," the doctor said. "If you can get through your morning shower... and lunch... without incident... I'll cut you loose."

Lee nodded. "Deal," he said. He wasn't happy about the delay, but he suspected it was as much of a compromise as Doctor Cottle was going to make.

* * *

Commander Adama dropped into the chair behind his desk feeling like he'd just been run through the wringer. In his second session with Doctor Marsh, the kindly-looking, delicate, little old lady had been merciless. The primary topic of discussion had been the Cylon War. The _First_ Cylon War. He had initially tried to claim to her that events so far in the past were of no relevant importance to him now. He had accepted what happened, taken responsibility where appropriate, and moved on. 

Doctor Marsh had stunned him by laughing out loud. Then she had composed herself and said, "We'll see."

It hadn't taken long at all for her to prove him wrong. The memories and the feelings she had forced him to dredge up were brutal. He had finally protested the entire conversation, demanding to know, "Why are we sitting here picking at old wounds and making them bleed?"

"Those wounds wouldn't bleed if they were healed," she'd told him.

William had walked from the doctor's office after almost 90 painful minutes feeling exhausted and very troubled. He was right around the corner from sickbay and had originally planned to drop by and visit with Lee after his session with Doctor Marsh. He'd intended to try broaching one of those difficult, but important, areas of discussion with his son that he knew he'd been avoiding for so long. But now he didn't feel that he was up to it. In truth he didn't even want Lee to see him in his current state. So, he had returned to his quarters instead, hoping to indulge in a little peace and quiet, and visit with Lee later that afternoon.

He leaned his head back wearily against the high back of his chair and let out a deep breath, trying to unwind. Then the phone rang. He winced and reached for the receiver. It was Petty Officer Dualla, calling to inform him that the President's shuttle was coming on board.

"Just what I need," he grumped. Into the phone he told Dee, "I'll meet her in my quarters." He waited impatiently, seated at his desk, tapping his fingers on the armrest. "_Hurry up_," he thought._ "Let's just get this over with."_ Laura Roslin really was just about the last person that he wanted to see right then.

Though it took no more than five minutes from the time he was informed of her arrival until she stepped into his quarters, William had worked himself up into a foul mood and he was spoiling for a fight. She walked into his office space and stood there as though she expected him to rise from his chair and kiss her on the cheek in welcome. He knew full well it was a violation of protocol not to stand when the President entered the room, but he didn't give a frak.

"Well?" he prompted her.

She was visibly surprised by his curt greeting. "Well..."

"Have your say and get it over with."

She blinked, looking decidedly put out. Then she gathered her composure... and surprised the heck out of him. "First... I want to apologize."

This time Adama blinked. "What?"

Her rigid posture relaxed a bit. "The last time we spoke... at your son's bedside... I said some things that were completely uncalled for. Truthfully, I was downright cruel and there was no excuse for that. I am very sorry."

Adama just sat and stared. "_Am I really hearing this_?" he wondered.

"I know that it was a very difficult time for you. Your son was fighting for his life and there is probably nothing more painful to a parent than that."

"Probably?" Adama had had some of the wind knocked out of his sails already, but he was still not willing to welcome this woman into his good graces. "Let me assure you Ms. Roslin, there is _absolutely_ nothing more painful than that."

It didn't escape Laura's notice that the commander had addressed her by her surname rather than by title, but rather than make an issue of it, she simply said, "I won't attempt to justify my behavior. I am truly and deeply sorry."

Adama scrutinized her carefully. "You came over from Colonial One just to tell me that?"

"No," she admitted sheepishly. "I've been avoiding coming over from Colonial One to avoid telling you that. I've only just now made the trip because there is something I need to discuss with you."

"So the apology was just a smokescreen?"

"No," she said sincerely. "I meant what I said. Completely. I have regretted my words for several days now, but you are not an easy man to apologize to Commander, so I have been putting it off. Now that I'm here, however, I can't very well avoid what is an overdue obligation. I don't even expect your forgiveness. I really don't. But you have my apology anyway."

Adama just sat looking at Laura Roslin with a rigidly stern expression. "Noted," he said. "What was it you really came here for?"

"_And here's where the blowup begins_," Laura thought. "I remain very deeply concerned for your son's safety," she said. "I know there is a prevailing opinion among some that he attempted suicide. However, I happen to believe that it was attempted murder... and I believe Tom Zarek may be ultimately responsible."

For the second time in only a few minutes Laura Roslin succeeded in completely surprising William Adama. "Zarek? You think Zarek is trying to kill my son?"

"Yes," she said.

"I assume you have evidence?"

"Weak, circumstantial evidence, yes," she replied.

William stood up from his chair. "Tell me." He walked around to the front of his desk and stood facing the President.

"_He's going to listen?"_ Laura cleared her throat. "Somehow, Zarek learned very early on about the alleged suicide. He was in fact told that Captain Apollo had _died_, which indicates that his information was received prematurely."

Adama shook his head, unconvinced. "There were a lot of rumors flying around."

"Not that early on. Besides, there were no communications that night between Galactica and the Astral Queen. How would any rumor have reached Zarek?"

"Second hand. Third hand. Rumors have a way of traveling quickly and the fact that what he heard was wrong just reinforces that."

"_Here goes_,_"_ Laura braced herself. "There was a message sent from Galactica to the Geminon Traveler at 12:55am. About ten minutes later, another message was sent from the Geminon Traveler to the Astral Queen. It could have been a message from the killer notifying Zarek that the job was done, relayed through the Geminon Traveler so that it would not be brought to your direct attention. At that time of the night it did appear that Captain Apollo was not going to survive, so that would have been what was reported to Tom Zarek."

After a few seconds, Adama actually chuckled. "Madame President, I think you've been reading a few too many mystery novels."

This wasn't at all the angry eruption that Laura had feared, but it wasn't what she'd hoped for either. "You have transcripts of those two messages stored on file, do you not?"

Adama nodded. "We archive the non-critical transmissions for 2 weeks, so they should still be on file."

"May I take a look?" she requested as humbly as she could manage.

"No," Adama said, very matter-of-factly.

"Commander," Laura said with a bit more vigor, "we may be dealing with a murder conspiracy involving one of the elected members of the Quorum of Twelve. That places this issue under my authority and responsibility just as much as yours."

Adama appeared to consider that point. But then he said, "Let me ask you something. How did you even find out about the transmissions?"

Laura looked the commander directly in the eye and told him, "I was deeply concerned about your son. I wanted to know how Tom Zarek got his information, so I asked a friend for help."

"Would this _friend_ be a member of my crew?"

"Yes," she replied without hesitation.

"Care to tell me who?"

"No," Laura said, very matter-of-factly.

Adama smirked and shook his head in reply.

Laura added, "I can tell you that in spite of your potential misgivings, this crewmember remains completely loyal to you and only assisted me on this matter out of mutual respect and concern for your son."

Adama stared at Roslin for several seconds, his face unreadable. He at last shook his head again and stepped back to lean against his desk. "Madame President, I appreciate your concern for Lee's well-being, but if this conspiracy theory of yours is based solely on the fact that two ships communicated that night... an occurrence that happens _every_ night, all over the fleet... well the fact is you haven't got a pot to piss in. And I will thank you to never again have any dealings with a member of my crew without going through me first."

Roslin steadfastly returned Adama's stern gaze for several seconds. Then she smiled and inclined her head. "Very well," she said. "Good day, Commander." She didn't wait for him to return the sentiment before turning her back to him and walking away.

Billy was pacing anxiously in the hallway and hurried over to Laura as soon as she emerged from Commander Adama's quarters. "Well?" he asked nervously.

"Well," she said, "no handcuffs or bloodshed."

"Did he agree to let you see the transcripts?"

"No," she said, but then smiled. "But he'll check them himself. I'm sure of it."

* * *

"Doctor Marsh?" Lee rapped on the hatch frame of Doctor Marsh's office as he stepped across the threshold. 

The doctor checked her watch and beckoned Lee into the room. "Right on time. Come on in Lee and close the hatch. Do you like what I've done with the place?"

Lee looked around the sparse office. The doctor had a utilitarian desk, a couch, and a chair. That was it. "Are you going for a minimalist theme?"

"I call it 'Government Issue.' Have a seat." The doctor settled herself into the chair while Lee sat down on the couch. He was carrying a good-sized box that he set on the floor by his feet, giving her a good view of his right hand.

"Not a present for me?" She kidded him pointing to the box.

"Sorry," Lee said. "It's kind of a 'Get Well' present from the deck crew, something they made for me."

She pointed next at his hand. "No catheter?"

Lee smiled. "Nope. Not any more. Doctor Cottle just cut me loose."

"He released you?" She was surprised.

"I kind of bullied my way out the door," Lee admitted. "But after a long list of instructions he did sign me out." He displayed his bandaged left hand. "I do have to drop back in in three days for evaluation though."

"Why the rush to get out?" she asked him. After a slight hesitation from Lee, she told him, "Be blunt."

Lee reluctantly said, "Because it's harder to hit a moving target."

"What do you mean?" she prompted him gently.

Lee met the doctor's eyes directly and said, "Someone on this ship has tried to kill me twice now. But nothing is being done about it."

"Twice?" she inquired.

Lee nodded. "Someone tampered with my IV yesterday while I was in the shower. But just like the first attack, there's no investigation. No questions are being asked." Lee saw the doctor eyeing him carefully. "You already heard from Doctor Cottle that it was a panic attack, didn't you?"

She nodded. "He told me that was his conclusion. He labeled it the result of ..."

"Acute Stress Disorder," Lee finished for her.

"Yes," the doctor confirmed. "He also did tell me that you disagreed with his diagnosis."

"I felt it," Lee told her, calmly and confidently. He looked at his bandaged hand. "Right after they hooked me back up, I felt something spreading up my arm, from the IV. I don't know what it was. We'll never know. But I did not just freak out over a flashback."

The doctor's face was completely neutral as she asked, "Did you have a flashback?"

Lee considered the question. "I'm not sure. The sensation in my arm did feel... _familiar_. But I felt the cold and the tingling _first_. Then it hit me that it was familiar, and I knew it was dangerous. But there was no _memory_ and it was not a panic attack. Of course that's not what Doctor Cottle told my father, so everyone just assumes I'm crazy. That is, everyone but me and the person who tried to kill me. Someone on this ship doesn't want me to get my memory back, and I won't get it back lying in sickbay where I'm a sitting target for attempt number 3."

Lee saw that the doctor was writing on her notepad. He frowned. "Just out of curiosity," he asked, "you're not noting that I'm having paranoid delusions, are you?"

Doctor Marsh gave Lee a grandmotherly smile. "No. I'm noting how you get little creases between your eyebrows when you're agitated. It's rather cute actually." She giggled at Lee's shocked amusement. "I see you get it when you're perplexed too. Go ahead Lee. You were saying?"

Having thoroughly lost his train of thought, Lee had to ask, "What was I saying?"

"You were telling me about how you didn't feel safe remaining in sickbay any longer and you feel you have to take more affirmative action to regain your memories."

Lee grinned. "It actually sounds better the way you just said it."

"Have you returned to your quarters yet?" she asked him.

"No."

"Nervous?"

"A little," he admitted. "I was hoping you might have some suggestions... something I should do... some techniques or something that might help to kick start my brain when I go back there."

She told him, "There's no magic key to your memories Lee. But I'll be happy to go with you if you'd like."

"Right now?" he asked.

"Why not?" She closed up her notebook and stood up from her chair. "You're anxious to get the ball rolling and this session is far from up. Let's go." Lee pushed himself to his feet and the doctor slipped her notebook and recorder into her briefcase. She told him, "According to the information your father gave me, your memory peters out while you were in the rec room, playing cards. Is that right?"

"Yes," Lee confirmed. "I don't remember leaving the table."

"Let's go there first then," she suggested, taking his arm and nudging him toward the hatch.

As he made his way down the hallways with the doctor on his arm, Lee began to notice that the crew members they passed offered him polite smiles, but they also looked very wary of him. Lee shook his head. "_They're afraid to talk to me_," he thought. "_They're afraid I'm going to flip out_."

"Tell me how you felt that night," Doctor Marsh instructed him.

"At the card game?"

"Yes."

"Tired," he said simply.

"Rumor has it you hadn't been sleeping much for the last few weeks before that."

"Consider that rumor confirmed," he told her. "That's what happens when you end up having to do the work of three people in spite of the fact you weren't properly trained for any of it."

Doctor Marsh clucked, "Wartime advancement is a bitch."

"Yes," Lee agreed.

"But your father was about to resume his duties. You were just about to resume your own singular duties as CAG again. Wasn't that a relief?"

"I hoped it _would_ be, but..."

"But what?"

Lee told the doctor thoughtfully, "It's like when I was 17 and I was training for this _big_ regional track meet. My race was the 10K, and I was good. I was the best at my school and second in the district at that distance. I was training like crazy for this meet and I thought I might even have a chance to medal. Well, the district team had only one runner competing in the 20K distance and he pulled a hamstring 2 days before the competition. So _the_ day before the meet, the coach asked me to change races and run the 20K instead. He didn't think anybody else on the team could go the distance and they still had three others entered in the 10K, including the district champ. I'd never even trained at that distance before, but for the sake of the team, I did it."

"How did you do?" Doctor Marsh asked.

Lee grimaced at the memory. "At the halfway split, I set a personal record. It was my best 10K distance yet, and I still felt pretty good. But those last 5,000 meters..." He shook his head. "I was just trying to _survive_. I finished the race, but it was out of pure stubborn tenacity, nothing more. I finished only because I refused to quit. When I crossed the finish line, I didn't feel relieved. I just felt... _wasted_. I didn't belong in that race. I wasn't ready for it and there was no joy in it at all."

Doctor Marsh gave Lee's arm a squeeze. "But you did it. You accomplished something you'd never done before."

"Yeah, that's what my mother said," Lee grinned. "But I knew what was going to happen next. Nobody cared that I had just run the best 10K distance of my life. They only cared that they had a new potential 20K runner and wanted to know if I could train up in time to be really competitive in the 20K at the next meet."

Doctor Marsh nodded her understanding. "Once you've raised people's expectations of you..."

"...they never let you go back," Lee sighed.

After a short pause, the doctor asked, "So did you run the 20K again?"

"Isn't that beside the point?" Lee asked. "The whole story was just about..."

"I know what the point of the story was," she interrupted. "But now I'm curious. Did you run the 20K or go back to the 10K?"

After a hesitation, Lee told her, "I ran the 20K."

"And?" She nudged him.

"And... I kicked ass. But that's beside the point," Lee claimed amidst the doctor's laughter.

She chuckled. "Are you sure?"

"Yes," he said, though he couldn't help finding the doctor's amusement contagious. "I still felt like shit at the end of the first race..." He stopped and winced. "Sorry for the language."

"Oh frak that. You were saying?"

Laughing, Lee said, "I was saying that I still felt _like shit_ at the end of that race, in spite of the fact that I got through it." His amusement faded then. "And that's how it felt the night of the attack. I was wiped out. There was no sense of satisfaction, and I couldn't really feel relieved."

"Because now that the crew had a whole new perspective of you, you knew you weren't really going to be allowed to go back to being _just_ the CAG?"

"Exactly."

The doctor nodded. "You're right. The other races were beside the point. But on the other hand, you do apparently have a good _track record_ of rising to the occasion."

Lee rolled his eyes and groaned at the pun.

"Sorry," Doctor Marsh giggled. "It was too easy. Couldn't let that one pass. But tell me Lee, do you think you would still have gone on to kick ass in the 20K if you hadn't been forced to run that first painful race? Would you have tried it on your own, or just stayed with the 10K?"

Lee frowned down at the diminutive, silver-haired doctor. "Now I know you're playing head games."

"It's my job. I'm entitled. So what's the answer Junior?"

Lee shrugged. "I don't know. I probably would have done it, but not until college at least."

"And how did you do in college?"

"I dusted the upper-classmen in my freshman year. Then I pushed my distance out to 30K in my junior year."

"Was that your idea?"

"Yes," he said. After a thoughtful pause, he added, "Truth is that even when I was still running the 10K, I wanted to work my way up to 20. I just didn't want to do it _overnight_. Though I have to admit, that race showed me how far I really can push myself. It gave me a lot of confidence and I've never really been afraid of new challenges since then. I don't always _welcome_ them... but I'm not afraid of them."

Lee and Doctor Marsh had arrived at the hatch leading into the rec room. Five of Lee's pilots were gathered there and they enthusiastically greeted Lee's arrival. They were all surprised to see Lee out of sickbay, and all expressed their pleasure at seeing that he looked well. Lee thanked them, feeling very self-conscious.

"So," Doctor Marsh asked, "where were you seated that night?"

"Over there." Lee pointed out the table where he had been playing cards.

"Pull up a chair, Flyboy," she instructed him.

Lee pulled a chair over to same spot where he'd been seated during the game and sat down. After a few seconds, he asked the doctor. "Is something supposed to happen now?"

Doctor Marsh went to stand just behind Lee's right shoulder, out of his line of sight. "Who else was at the table?" she prompted him.

Lee pointed out each position of the other players. "Starbuck... Kat... and Helo."

Helo, who was among the pilots hanging out in the rec room at that time, raised his hand. "Yep, I was on your left."

Lee hadn't really noticed that the pilots were all watching him. He felt even more self-conscious than before.

The doctor pointed at Helo. "You. You were at the table?"

"Yeah," Helo confirmed.

The doctor pointed toward the chair on Lee's left. "Park it Hotstuff." Looking thoroughly amused, Helo slid into the chair beside Lee.

With a concentrated look on his face, Lee turned toward Helo. "Who was dealing that last hand?" he asked the Raptor pilot.

"I was," Helo told him.

The doctor tapped Lee's shoulder. "_You_ come up with the answers," she told Lee. To Helo, she said, "You just sit there and look pretty till I tell you otherwise." Helo stared back at the doctor with a big grin on his face.

A very slight smile crept onto Lee's face. He looked at Helo again. "Kat folded right after Kara stood on her initial hand. You took one card, and then folded after Kara raised the pot to 50. I had too good a hand to just fold, but Kara had more money, so I couldn't take her out of the game. I made her call. Then I turned it in."

Doctor Marsh smiled. "And you didn't remember any of those details before?"

Lee smiled too. "No. I remember pulling out of the game now. That was when I left. And..." His expression grew deeply concentrated. Then he winced. "Frak. That's all."

The doctor patted his shoulder. "All right. We're making progress. The surroundings here helped. Let's move on to the next scene."

"Back to quarters?"

"You feel up to it?"

"Yes," Lee said determinedly. He rose from his chair a little too quickly, however, and for a few seconds he was a little light-headed.

Helo got up quickly and put a steadying hand on Lee's arm. "You all right Captain?"

Lee took a deep breath. "Yeah Helo. Thanks."

"Are you sure Sir?" Helo asked. "You went a little pale there for a second. If you need a hand getting back to quarters..."

"No," Lee declined. "I'll be fine." He stepped away from the table, feeling better but moving a little more cautiously. "Hey Helo?"

"Yes Sir?"

"Do you know where Starbuck is?"

"She's on CAP," Helo replied.

"Do you know when she's due back?"

Helo checked his watch. "In about five hours."

Lee was disappointed. He had been hoping to _finally_ catch up with Kara sooner than that. "Thanks," he said. He walked from the rec room with Doctor Marsh once again beside him.

The walk from the rec room toward officers' quarters was much less chatty than the trip from Doctor Marsh's office had been. Encouraged by the restoration of his memory at the card game, Lee concentrated on digging up whatever might have happened in the minutes after he walked away from the table. As they headed down one hallway and then another however, nothing new was coming back to him. As they approached the hatch to his quarters, Lee slowed gradually to a stop. He stared at the closed hatch.

"Anything?" Doctor Marsh asked quietly.

Lee shook his head. "Not yet. I remember leaving the card game, but nothing after that."

"All right. Let's go in." Lee pulled the hatch open and held it for the doctor to step through first. She shook her head and told him, "Thank you for being a gentleman, but you didn't follow me into the room that night. You go on. I'll be right behind you."

Lee stepped inside. He was pleased to see that no one else was there. He wouldn't have an audience this time like he'd had back in the rec room. He looked around intently, concentrating.

"Tell me what you're thinking," Doctor Marsh said behind him, again staying out of his line of sight.

"I wish I knew," Lee said softly.

"You do know. Spit it out," she told him.

"I feel... a little uneasy, but I don't know why," he said. His eyes keenly took in every detail of his surroundings. Then he sighed and shook his head. "Nothing is coming back."

"Well, let's walk through it," Doctor Marsh instructed. "Try to stay relaxed. You would have walked through the hatch that night and... yodeled?"

Lee smiled at the doctor's levity. "I just wanted to get some sleep, so... I'd have gone to my locker to get undressed."

"Other people were in here," she reminded him.

Lee tried to imagine the setting as it would have been. "I know Kara came in later. They told me Frosty and Stinger were already asleep."

"Which racks?" Lee pointed out for her which racks were assigned to his pilots. "Try to picture that now. Your pilots are in those racks, snoozing away. You come in through the hatch. And..."

Lee walked through the motions. "I'd have gone to my locker." He stepped over and pulled open the locker door. "And... nothing."

"Try to be patient."

"Does that advice ever work?" he asked.

"Once in a blue moon."

Lee stood staring, waiting. Frustrated he shut the locker door. "Frak." As he had back in the rec room, Lee found himself feeling suddenly light-headed. It was easy to forget that he'd only just been released from sickbay and that Doctor Cottle had sternly instructed him to rest as much as possible.

"Why don't you sit down?" Doctor Marsh suggested. "You're looking a little pale again."

Lee dropped into one of the chairs at the room's center table. With elbows on the table, he settled his head wearily into his hands. "I remembered the card game,' he said tiredly.

Doctor Marsh sat down beside him. "Yes, you did," she said. "You're making progress."

"Why can't I remember the rest?"

"The card game wasn't traumatic," she explained. "It was just caught up in the fringes of the event. That's why you remembered it first. Don't get discouraged Lee. It's only been a few days and your mind is starting to loosen up the barriers already."

"You don't understand," Lee groaned. "I _have_ to remember." He sat up straighter, leaning back in the chair. "You saw how the crew was looking at me in the hallways. They're walking on eggshells around me, believing I'm nuts. No one is going to believe otherwise until I can prove what really happened, and I can't prove it until I remember. And I have to do it _on my own_. No one is even going to try to help me!"

She whistled and waved a hand in his face. "Hello? Did I suddenly become invisible?"

Lee lowered his head contritely. "You're right. I'm sorry. I just meant that... somebody tried to _kill_ me, and my friends... my _family_... aren't doing jack about it. How am I supposed to interpret that?"

"How _do_ you interpret that?" she asked pointedly.

Lee hesitated before answering. "They'd prefer me to just be crazy. It makes it easier on them."

"How would that be easier?"

"They can write me off," Lee said. "They can just let _you_ deal with me while they go on about their own business." Lee hadn't even noticed before that Doctor Marsh had retrieved her notepad from the briefcase.

"Who exactly are 'they'? Your father, I assume. Who else?"

"Starbuck," Lee replied. "Lieutenant Kara Thrace."

"Is she your girlfriend?"

Lee grinned weakly. "Well, she's a girl, and she's a friend. At least she used to be."

"Have the two of you been intimate?"

"No," Lee said. "Strictly friends. And she was engaged to my brother at the time he died."

"Your brother Zak?"

"Yes."

"Did you meet her through Zak?"

"No, we were friends for a while before they met."

"So you've known her and been friends with her for several years then. But you don't consider her a friend any longer?"

Lee swallowed uneasily. With difficulty, he replied, "She hasn't acted like one in a long time."

"But she used to, once upon a time?"

Lee just nodded. Kara had been the source of so many conflicting emotions for so long. He was growing increasingly uncomfortable talking about her.

"When did things change?" Doctor Marsh asked. "Was it her engagement to your brother?"

"No," Lee replied. "We were still fine then. I even thought they'd be good for each other." _Until she lied to him and got him killed_, Lee thought. He didn't mention that to the doctor.

"Then when was the change?"

Lee pondered the question, tracing back the events to when the trouble had first started to appear. "It was when I became her boss," he finally answered.

"Ah," Doctor Marsh commented. "How long ago was that?"

"The day of the Holocaust. I was stranded here on Galactica and just happened to be the most senior pilot who was still breathing. That made me the CAG." Lee's expression grew troubled, thinking back on that day and the harrowing days of constant pursuit that had followed. "She did make it pretty clear, very early on... as far as she was concerned we were no longer friends."

"Clear in what way?"

"She said it. Plain and simple. 'We're not friends. You're the CAG.'"

"That's pretty plain," Doctor Marsh agreed.

"Yeah," Lee admitted quietly.

"But you didn't believe her?"

"At the time, I guess I didn't."

"You _guess_?"

Lee confessed, "Okay, at the time I didn't believe her. I just chalked it up to fatigue and frayed nerves. So I didn't take her seriously. I guess I didn't want to."

"You guess?"

Lee corrected himself. "I didn't want to. You're really going to make me think about my words, aren't you?"

"Gotta entertain myself somehow," Doctor Marsh grinned. "So, you didn't want to accept that your friendship with Kara was really over, even though she had told you otherwise in no uncertain terms."

Lee's demeanor became very quiet and subdued. "We'd all just lost everything," he said.

The doctor stopped him with a raised hand. "Don't try to speak for the entire civilization Lee. Just speak for yourself."

Lee nodded and gathered his train of thought together. "I was a stranger here," he explained. "I was suddenly in a command position on a strange ship, amongst people I didn't know, doing a job I'd never done before, trying to lead our defenses and prevent what little remained of our species from going extinct. But I had a friend. _One_ friend. Someone I'd known for years. Someone I trusted. Somebody who cared. That meant a lot to me."

Lee had to stop to ease the trembling that started creeping into his voice. After several seconds he managed to collect himself and continue. "She had a temper tantrum under high stress. I figured it was no big deal. We were all on-edge. Tempers were short all around and Kara's never had a long fuse. I figured I'd let it slide and once things calmed down, we'd be okay."

"But that didn't happen?"

"As long as things were going smoothly... no sign of Cylons, everything under control... we were all right. It seemed pretty much like old times. But whenever things got rough it all changed. Right at those times when you really need your friends to support you the most... she wouldn't. Just the opposite. Those were the times when she was the most insolent, undisciplined, insulting... The fact is that I've had more incidents of insubordination from Kara than from all of the other pilots under my command, _combined_. She's only ever made my job harder, not easier. She couldn't even..." Lee stopped speaking, shaking his head and wincing.

"She couldn't what?" Doctor Marsh urged him to continue.

Lee looked at the elderly little lady beside him. "You were a marine?"

"Yes, I was."

"You've been in combat zones before?"

"I have," she confirmed.

"Did you always get along perfectly with all of your crewmates?"

Doctor Marsh chuckled. "No, not always."

"Even so," Lee said, "even with the people you didn't like much, did you ever... _would_ you ever send a comrade-in-arms into combat with an insult? Would you cut them down and tell them they weren't up to doing the job right before sending them out on a high-risk mission?"

"Hell no," Doctor Marsh replied indignantly.

"Right," Lee agreed. "You tell them, 'Good luck.' 'Good hunting,' 'Give 'em hell.' Something along those lines, right? It's just common, professional courtesy, right?"

"Absolutely," Doctor Marsh agreed.

Very agitated now, Lee asked, "Shouldn't I be able to expect the same common courtesy from a _friend_?"

"Are you expecting it from a woman who already told you that she is _not_ your friend?"

Lee flinched. His eyes dropped to the tabletop and he sat silently for a long time. When he finally looked up again at Doctor Marsh, his eyes were heavy and showed a trace unshed tears. "I need to accept it don't I? Kara is not my friend, is she?"

Doctor Marsh replied gently, "You're the only one who can decide that Lee."

The conflict played out visibly across Lee's face. "There are times when she still seems like the friend I used to know."

"When times are good?"

"Yes."

"When it's _easy_ to be a friend?"

Discouraged, Lee replied, "Yes."

"Fair weather friends are easy to find Lee. Is that all she's been lately?"

"Lately, yes," Lee said sadly.

"Are you sure she wasn't always that way?"

"I didn't think so. But life was pretty different back then."

"And now you're the boss instead of her buddy."

Lee acknowledged that fact with a roll of his eyes. "Kara's always had authority issues. Now that she has to salute me and take orders from me, apparently that makes me the enemy."

"Have you treated her differently than any of your other pilots? Have you been more demanding? Expecting more of her because of your past association?"

Lee shook his head. "No. Just the opposite. I've let her get away with crap that I'd never put up with from anyone else."

Doctor Marsh pursed her lips, knowingly. "So, you've taught her that she can disrespect you and get away with it."

Lee's expression turned stern. "She used to get away with it. I don't let her anymore."

"So you changed the rules on her."

"I've started holding her to the same standards as everyone else," Lee stated.

"And she doesn't like it?"

"No, she doesn't."

Doctor Marsh nodded. "The old 'I knew you when' attitude?"

"Exactly," Lee confirmed.

"Well," the doctor said, "it sounds to me that you already know what you need to do where she is concerned."

Lee considered what that meant. "Even if I do... that doesn't make it easy."

"Nope. Never said it was easy."

"And yet..."

"What Lee?"

Lee once again looked thoroughly confused. "She saved my life. She was the one who found me after I was attacked here. And she saved me back at Ragnar too. I ordered her to leave me behind there, and she wouldn't. Oh frak it, I don't know what to think!"

Doctor Marsh looked at Lee thoughtfully. "Lee, did you ever ask Kara exactly why she told you she wasn't your friend? Have you asked her why she treats you differently now than she used to?"

"No," Lee admitted wearily.

"I haven't met Lieutenant Thrace," Doctor Marsh said. "Though I suspect that maybe I should look her up and see if she wouldn't be willing to sit down for a few sessions of her own. But until I do, I can only guess about her motives. It could be that she does indeed still care for you, even though she doesn't always know how to respond to you as the person who orders her around now. It could be that she is just as confused about the kind of relationship the two of you have now as you seem to be."

Lee took a deep breath. "But how can I continue to think of her as a friend when she's proven to me that she is the one person on this ship whom I can _not_ rely on for support?"

"Except life support," Doctor Marsh said blithely.

Lee dropped his head back into his hands with a groan.

"Lieutenant Thrace is one of your roommates, right?"

Lee nodded, feeling damn near utterly drained. "Yes, she is."

"Then, you'll be seeing her tonight I imagine."

"I suppose."

"You suppose? Lee you asked Hotstuff back there about her whereabouts. We both know you hoped to catch up with her." The doctor reached over and put a hand on Lee's shoulder. "When you see her tonight, ask her all the questions you've asked me. If you can do that, then I'm sure whatever answers she gives you, it will be clear to you whether or not she is still your friend."

Lee nodded. "Okay," he replied, though he wasn't confident that he would have the strength to deal with Kara in what would undoubtedly turn out to be a verbal free-for-all.

Doctor Marsh gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze. "It's a little early yet, but I think we should call this session right here. You're looking a little peaked and I think you need to lie down. Frankly, I think you should have stayed in sickbay a little longer, but I'm sure Doctor Cottle didn't let you leave before giving you strict instructions to get plenty of rest."

"I got the lecture," Lee confirmed.

"Good," Doctor Marsh declared, gathering her briefcase. "I'll see you tomorrow Lee. Get some sleep."

Lee rose from his chair to open the hatch for the doctor and closed it behind her after she left. For a long time he just stood alone and silent by the hatch looking around. After a while he sensed it again, that twitch of uneasiness that he'd felt when he first walked into quarters several minutes ago. He tried to latch on to that feeling and let it lead him back to his memories, but the effort proved futile. He only succeeded in tiring himself out further.

He walked slowly toward his rack. Lee knew Doctor Marsh had been right. He did need to lie down and rest for a while. But instead he stood staring at his rack. "_I died there_," he thought, and it sent a shiver down his spine. He looked around, suddenly feeling very vulnerable. He had bullied his way out of sickbay because he didn't feel safe there anymore, but this room wasn't exactly safe either. Someone had already killed him here.

"_Frak_," he thought. "_Now what?_" He had so hoped that with Doctor Marsh's help, coming back here would jar those buried memories loose. Apparently it would take longer. But how frakking long? And what would he do in the meantime? If he were to lie back down in his own rack and fall asleep... would he ever wake up again?

A knock on the hatch startled Lee. His pulse actually went racing for a few seconds. "Gods Lee, get a grip," he muttered to himself. Whoever had knocked did so again. "It's open," he called out, his anxiety fading now toward curiosity. No one bothered knocking before entering shared officers' quarters. Privacy was a luxury that no one expected on a warship unless you happened to be the commander or the XO.

The hatch swung open and Lee was surprised to see the President step over the threshold. He stood up straighter. "Madame President."

She heard his greeting but had to look around for a few moments before she caught sight of him standing by his rack. "Doctor Cottle told me I should be able to find you here. I hope I didn't wake you."

"No," he said.

"He said you were under orders to rest."

"I'm not having much luck with that, I'm afraid," Lee said. "Can I do something for you Madame President?"

Laura Roslin tilted her head slightly and gave him a gentle smile. "Actually I wanted to see if there was anything I could do for you. It's good to see you back on your feet. How are you feeling?"

"I feel good," he told her. "A little frustrated. My memory is starting to trickle back."

"That's good!"

"Not good enough," Lee sighed. "I remember leaving the card game in the rec room, but I can't remember a thing about what happened once I got back here. Although it... it makes me feel... uneasy... just being in this room again."

She looked at him thoughtfully. "Is that why you can't sleep?"

Lee nodded with a discouraged frown.

"Maybe I can do something for you," she suggested. "Maybe you should consider coming back with me to Colonial One."

That suggestion took Lee by surprise. "Back to Colonial One? Why?"

"I'm worried about you," Roslin told him. "I'm worried about your safety. You need to rest and get your strength back, but someone on this ship tried to kill you... in this very room no less."

Lee was surprised by how closely her thoughts echoed his own. In spite of that, he told her, "I can't just run away and hide."

"I know, but you aren't exactly capable of doing much to defend yourself right now, are you?"

Lee couldn't argue that point. He wasn't safe in his quarters. He didn't feel safe in sickbay. He'd been taken off guard in the first attack; he was sure of that. But even if Lee saw it coming the next time, he knew that he could only manage a very feeble defense right now.

"You need to rest, Captain Apollo," Roslin said gently. "And I don't think you're safe doing that here. Come back with me to Colonial One, at least for a few days while you get your strength back."

Lee considered her offer. It would be nice to be able to close his eyes without worrying that someone would murder him in his sleep, but he was still reluctant. "I have to meet with Doctor Marsh every day at 1300 hours. She's the one who gets to decide whether I go back on duty or get locked into a padded cell."

"I'm sure we can arrange a shuttle, either for you or Doctor Marsh."

Lee hesitated only another few seconds. "I need to clear it with Doctor Cottle first."

"Not your father?"

Lee shook his head. "I'm still on medical leave. I'm not even cleared for light duty yet, so that puts me under Major Cottle's authority."

"Well, let's ask him, though I don't think he'll have a problem with it."

An odd thought occurred to Lee and he looked at the President quizzically. "My father didn't put you up to this, did he?"

Laura Roslin's face displayed bewilderment. "Your father?"

"This isn't just another way of his to make sure someone is keeping an eye on me now that I've bugged out of sickbay, is it?"

Laura actually looked amused. "You actually think your father... would ask _me_... to look after you?"

Lee considered the scenario again. "Right. Dumb question. Sorry."

* * *

"What do you mean he left the ship?" Commander Adama interrogated Doctor Cottle. 

The doctor flipped his lighter open and replied leisurely with a cigarette between his lips, "About an hour ago. He hitched a ride on the President's shuttle back to Colonial One."

"He's not cleared for duty," Adama said crossly. "He wasn't even released yet from sickbay."

"I released him right after lunch." The doctor held the lighter to the tip of his cigarette until it glowed bright red.

Adama stared at the doctor. "You didn't tell me that."

"Yes I did."

"When?"

"Just now."

Adama took a deep breath to calm himself down. Major Cottle's irreverent attitude had been a source of amusement in the past, but at the moment it was grating on his nerves. "You didn't clear him for duty, did you?"

"Hell no." Cottle took a long drag and smiled at the pleasure of a craving being satisfied. "That kid can barely take a shower without wearing himself out."

"Then what the frak does that woman think she's doing? If he's not cleared for duty, that includes duties as her advisor."

"She' not putting him to work. She's putting him bed."

"Come again?" Commander Adama didn't like the sound of that.

"Get your mind out of the gutter, you dirty old man," Doctor Cottle growled. "Lee thinks he'll be able to rest easier on Colonial One for the time being than he can here on Galactica. I think he's probably right. He's uneasy back in quarters, and he doesn't feel safe here in sickbay. And rather than leaving him alone to just take care of himself, I'll feel better knowing that he's got Mother Hen clucking over him. He'll be keeping up his appointments with Doctor Marsh, and he'll be back in three days to check in with me."

Adama paced angrily. "He can't just leave this ship without permission."

"He had permission. Mine."

"Yours?"

"That's right. He's still under my supervision."

Adama scowled. It was true that for the time being Lee was still Doctor Cottle's responsibility. Doctor Cottle did have the authority to allow Lee to leave the Galactica during his recuperation. "_But I'm his father_!" Adama thought.

The commander glowered at the doctor. "If you thought Lee still needed someone looking after him, you should have called me. I'm his family, not her!"

Doctor Cottle shrugged. "She was here. You weren't."

Adama glared but he honestly didn't know who he was truly angry at: the doctor, the President, or Lee. Without further comment, he turned and stalked out of sickbay. He strode through the hallways without even trying to mask his foul mood. The crew gave him a wide berth and even avoided their typical congenial greetings to their commander. Everyone knew, when the Old Man looked like that... just steer clear until the storm passes.

Adama stomped into his quarters and slammed the hatch shut. He had rarely in his life felt more furious and more hurt than he did at that moment. "Damn that woman!" he cursed loudly. Why did she have to keep interfering? Wouldn't she ever stop coming between him and his children? And why did Lee keep letting her? Wouldn't Lee ever side with his family instead of with Laura Roslin?

"He can rest easier on Colonial One?" Adama scoffed, angrily. If Lee didn't feel safe in his own quarters, they could have made other arrangements for him. Easily! "He could have just stayed with me," Adama said, losing his rancor quickly. "All he had to do was ask." William shook his head in frustration and dropped down onto his couch.

"Why couldn't you ask me Lee?" he wondered out loud. "Why did you ask her instead?"

The doctor's recent words echoed inside his head. "_She was here. You weren't_."

William sagged back against the cushions. "I should have stopped in to see him earlier," he said. "I shouldn't have put off talking to him." The truth was suddenly plain to William and it hurt. Because his father wasn't there, Lee had sought help elsewhere. "Just like you taught him, Husker. You taught him that a long time ago, didn't you? Dad won't be around, so you have to make do on your own. Shit."

William groaned loudly then in response to a knock on his door. He was in no mood for visitors. Scowling, he heaved himself to his feet and went to yank open the door. Petty Officer Dualla was standing there. She blanched momentarily at the expression on his face, then composed herself and saluted smartly.

"Commander, I've just finished going through the archives of the wireless transcripts, as you requested," she told him.

"Come in Dee," he told her, pulling the hatch fully open and leaving it there in place. Dualla followed the commander into his quarters toward his office space at the back. "Did you locate those two particular messages?"

"No Sir," she replied with some reluctance.

He stopped walking and turned back around to face her. "No?"

"They're gone Sir."

"What do you mean they're gone?"

Dualla appeared to brace herself. "All of the wireless transcripts for that night are missing Sir."

"How can that be?"

"I don't know Sir. I can't explain it."

"Did you check the entire file? What if they're just out of order?"

"I checked the entire file, Sir," she declared. "It's possible that they ended up being filed with some other department's logs... or it's possible they were discarded by mistake and never filed at all. I really don't know Sir."

Adama looked at the young petty officer intently. "Is it possible Dee... that those transcripts were already pulled and handed off to someone else?"

Dualla appeared slightly intimidated by the question, but she was calm in her reply. "If that were to be the case Sir, I have no knowledge of it."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes Sir," she resolutely confirmed.

Adama nodded then, satisfied that PO Dualla was telling him the truth. He still suspected that she might have leaked the traffic log to the President through Billy Keikeya, but he knew Dee wasn't lying about the transcripts. "All right Dee. Until further notice, I want all communications to and from the Astral Queen to be brought to my _immediate_ attention, not just included in the daily report."

"Yes Sir," Dualla affirmed.

"In addition, I want to be personally copied on all transmissions leaving Galactica that do not originate from the CIC."

"_All_ transmissions Sir?"

"All of them."

"Yes Sir."

"Thank you Dee. Carry on."

PO Dualla started to leave, then stopped. "Commander, I can check all of the other department logs, just in case..."

"Don't bother," he told her. "You won't find them."

Dualla nodded. "Very well Sir."

Adama walked around to his desk chair and sat down. This latest development was setting off alarm bells in every nerve in his body. Was it possible that the President had been on to something after all? She'd admitted the evidence was weak. It was. _Very_ weak. But if there was even a chance that Tom Zarek was involved, William didn't think it was possible to be too cautious.

Was it possible that Lee really was NOT in denial? Was Zarek behind a plot to kill Lee?

"Why would Zarek want Lee dead?" William wondered out loud. "Because he supports Roslin? He'll oppose Zarek's presidential campaign, certainly. He's a popular figure in the fleet these days. His opinion could sway a lot of voters... especially if Lee goes public with the details of the hostage crisis on the Astral Queen."

But would Zarek risk a murder conspiracy in order to silence one opposing voice? "Why not? He blew up a building just to make a political statement. Human life has no value to him, unless it serves his purposes. And if he thinks that Lee might cost him the election..."

But Zarek didn't sneak aboard Galactica and carry out the deed himself. If this speculation was all true, it meant there was a conspirator on board. And the only thing keeping that conspirator from being revealed was Lee's missing memory.

Adama reached for his phone. "Get me a link to Colonial One," he said. He waited for several seconds while the call was connected. To his considerable surprise, the President herself answered the call. "Madame President?"

"Yes Commander?" she replied, sounding wary even over the phone.

"Lee won't like this," he said, "but please try to make sure that he is well protected while he's there. I know you have a very reliable security team. Please make sure they know that he could be in danger."

There was a long silent pause on the other end of the line.

"Madame President are you there?"

"Yes," came the reply. The surprise in her voice was evident. "I'm here."

"We'll take care of transporting Doctor Marsh to Colonial One for the next few days, so Lee can just stay put. He may be safer just by being on Colonial One but... look after him anyway."

"I uh – I will. He'll be very safe here. I promise."

"Thank you Madame President."

"You're welcome."

William hung up the phone and stared at the handset for a few seconds before chuckling. "Did I really just say all that?"


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

Kara hesitated again as she approached the hatch to her quarters. She wanted to kick herself over how utterly ridiculous she was being, but every time she returned to that room she felt a near overwhelming sense of dread. It usually eased off once she was inside, but only if she didn't stay for long. She didn't plan on staying long this time. She had just completed her morning run and only needed to grab her shower kit and a change of clothes.

Bracing herself, she pulled open the door. As soon as she did, she saw Ensign Karo snooping around inside her locker. "What the frak are you doing Stinger?"

Stinger jumped back, looking very much like a little boy who had just been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. "Um, I was just..."

Kara walked right up to the junior pilot and held out her hand. "Hand it over," she ordered him.

"It?" he replied with exaggerated innocence.

Kara glared at him. "I know damn well you're the one who's been filching my stogies, you klepto. Now hand it over!"

Looking very sheepish and contrite, Stinger produced the stolen cigar from his sleeve and placed it into Starbuck's palm. "I didn't think you were using them any more."

Starbuck snatched back her cigar. "What the frakking business is it of yours whether I do or not? And didn't Apollo bust your ass once already for swiping other people's property?"

Stinger fidgeted under Starbuck's harsh gaze. "Well, yeah but..."

"But what?"

"That was just a pack of gum. He just gave me the lecture and let it drop."

"I don't give a frak!" Starbuck shouted, making Stinger wince. "Now you've had all the warnings you're going to get. It stops! Now! Do you understand?"

Stinger was visibly shaken. "Yeah. Yeah, I understand."

Kara calmed down and her harsh expression softened. "Look Stinger, it's not about gum and cigars. We need to know that we can trust you. Can we?"

"Y-yeah," Stinger said, still obviously nervous. "Yeah, sure."

"Apollo trusted you," she said.

Stinger looked downright scared now. "Wh-what?"

"When he talked to you about this before, I'm sure you told him it wouldn't happen again. Didn't you?" Starbuck inquired keenly.

Stinger didn't reply. He just dropped his eyes guiltily.

Kara actually felt a little sorry for being so hard on the kid, but he needed to learn this lesson. "Just because Apollo didn't write you up or toss you in the brig, did you think your word didn't matter? Did you think he'd _forget_?"

Stinger winced. He couldn't look Starbuck in the eye.

Kara still wasn't ready to let up on him yet. "Or did you just think that because Apollo isn't around to keep an eye on you, it was okay to break your word to him?"

Stinger shook his head. "No, I just..."

"You just didn't think you'd get caught."

"I'm sorry," Stinger said softly.

"I hope so," Starbuck said. "Because I'm not as forgiving as Apollo. If you break your word to me... Gods help you."

Stinger fidgeted and cleared his throat. "It won't happen Starbuck."

"Good. Now get going." Stinger took off out of the room at a half-run. Kara just sighed and almost cracked up laughing. "I swear that kid still thinks like a ten year-old."

She stepped up to her locker, which still had the door standing open, and took a quick look around. Nothing else appeared to be out of place. She crouched down and slipped the stolen cigar back into the box on the floor of the locker and shoved the box toward the back where it belonged. Stinger had been right about one thing. She hadn't smoked in almost 2 weeks. The last time had been at the card game with Apollo on the night that he'd...

She shook her head to clear that train of thought. She grabbed her towel and shower kit. Then her eyes settled on the photograph taped to her locker door. Lee's miniature image looked back at her. She missed him. She missed him terribly. He had been gone from Galactica for two days now, recuperating on Colonial One. It was true that she hadn't visited Lee even when he was recovering locally in sickbay, but it was somehow different when he was at least nearby, instead of completely inaccessible on another ship altogether. She couldn't drop by and see him now even if she tried. That thought brought yet another familiar pang of guilt. She'd felt them a lot over the past several days.

She stared at the photograph and whispered. "I couldn't see you Lee. I just couldn't. I'm sorry."

The photograph stared back silently. Lee's face almost looked like he was frowning at her, disappointed. "I'm sorry," she said again, then hurriedly shut the locker door.

* * *

Kara was almost feeling like her own self again by the time she showered, grabbed a quick breakfast, and headed down to the flight deck. There was something oddly soothing to Kara about the bustle of Vipers and Raptors, pilots and mechanics, all going about their daily business. It conveyed a sense of normalcy that was missing from Kara's life in so many other ways. She descended the ladder to the crew deck, looking forward to having nothing more to worry about than slippages in the repair schedules due to supply shortages. Instead she was greeted by the very grim expressions on the faces of Chief Tyrol and Crewman Specialist Cally. 

"What's up?" she asked warily.

Chief Tyrol responded gravely, "Cally has just confirmed with the flight crews that two more Red Needles have gone missing."

Kara took a very slow breath. "Great," she muttered. "One idiot tries it and gives everybody else ideas." Cally frowned at the lieutenant, but held her tongue. "Who are we talking about?" Kara asked.

Cally exchanged a quick look with the Chief, and then replied, "Ensign Karo and Lieutenant Mullins."

Kara's eyes opened slightly wider. "Stinger and Frosty?"

"Yes Sir," the Chief confirmed.

"Frak me," Kara breathed.

* * *

It took over an hour to locate both Karo and Mullins and get them seated in the pilots' briefing room. Starbuck let the two pilots sit in there by themselves for several minutes while everything else was arranged. Finally she entered by the door at the back of the room. The two men were talking in low tones as she stepped inside. 

"Relax Lou," Frosty was saying. "I told you, you've got nothing to worry about."

Starbuck walked in and as soon as they noticed her arrival both men rose to their feet at attention. "As you were," Starbuck told them. They sat back down with questioning looks on their faces. Starbuck stood directly in front of them and fixed them with a steely gaze. "Now," she said, "anything you boys want to tell me?"

Frosty and Stinger looked at each other. Then Frosty replied, "I'm sorry Starbuck. We don't know what this is all about."

Kara kept her face stern, but calm. "Sergeant Hadrian is at this very moment conducting a search of your lockers. She is checking your racks. She will check inside your socks, in every pocket, and through every single one of your personal possessions, inch by inch. Now, would either of you like to tell me if she is going to find anything of interest?"

Both men looked at each other again, but still appeared mystified. Stinger spoke up, "It was just the one cigar, I swear! Okay, I – I took one about a week ago, and another one a week before that... maybe two. But I don't have them anymore. I smoked 'em already. But I'll pay you back Starbuck."

Kara licked her lips and shook her head. "We've already talked about the cigars Stinger. What I want to hear about are needles."

"Needles?" Frosty inquired.

"Yes. Bright shiny red ones."

Stinger looked thoroughly confused. Frosty echoed his partner's unspoken sentiment. "Lieutenant, we don't know anything about Red Needles. I mean we know _about_ them, of course, but as for what that has to do with..."

"Yours are missing boys. The Chief's confirmed it. Now I want to know where they are."

"Starbuck, we don't know," Frosty said.

"We? You can read Stinger's mind?" Starbuck asked.

"He's not that hard a read," Frosty quipped. Stinger just looked blankly back and forth between Frosty and Starbuck.

Starbuck fixed her gaze on Stinger and asked, "Well Stinger? If it's there, we _will_ find it."

"I-I don't have any idea where it is. Really," Stinger insisted nervously.

Starbuck crossed her arms and regarded them both coolly. "We'll see. Won't we?"

They waited for nearly half an hour before Sergeant Hadrian appeared at the back of the briefing room and waved to catch Starbuck's attention. Starbuck met with the Master-at-Arms just outside the room.

"Did you find them?" Starbuck asked.

"No," Hadrian replied. "However, we did come across something odd." She handed a file folder to Starbuck. "It was tucked way in the back, underneath Lieutenant Mullins' mattress."

Starbuck flipped open the folder and scanned through the pages inside. "What are these?"

"I'm not sure," the Master-at-Arms replied. "They look like message transcripts of some kind."

Starbuck nodded. "Yeah they do. Looks like inter-ship communications. Pretty boring stuff but..."

"But why is Lieutenant Mullins hiding it under his mattress?"

"Exactly." Starbuck closed up the folder. "Show this to Petty Officer Dualla in CIC. See if she can confirm what it is. I'll keep Frosty here for the time being."

"Yes Sir."

Starbuck walked back up to the front of the room. "Hey Frosty... you sure there's nothing you want to tell me?"

Frosty looked up at Starbuck calmly, but Stinger looked stunned. He stared at his partner. "You took the Needles?" he gasped.

Frosty rolled his eyes. "Of course not," he said to Stinger. Then he looked at Starbuck and insisted, "I didn't."

"Okay," Starbuck nodded. "But was there something else that Sergeant Hadrian might have found interesting?"

Frosty sat back in his chair and dropped his eyes down. "Okay. I confess."

Starbuck and Stinger both perked up.

Frosty looked up again. "I confess. I like looking at pictures of naked women. I know it doesn't conform to regulations... but... I'm a _guy_!"

Starbuck closed her eyes, shaking her head. "Frosty," Starbuck growled, "if you need to get off on photographs because you can't get near the real thing, I don't give a shit!"

"Then what the frak is the problem?" Frosty asked.

"You've got porn?" Stinger asked his friend.

Starbuck rolled her eyes. "Stinger, why don't you just take off for now. But don't forget... we will find those Needles. So help me, if you're lying to me..."

"I'm not lying," Stinger said.

"Get out of here." Starbuck jerked her head toward the door. Stinger hurried to leave the room.

"He's not lying," Frosty said. "Come on Starbuck. He's a pretty decent pilot because he loves to blow things up and he's got a good eye for targets, but we're not talking about some evil mastermind here. The kid can barely find his way to the head without being lead by the hand."

"Well it's a good thing he's got you to lead him around then isn't it?"

"I look after him," Frosty agreed. "That's what friends are for. Just like you and Apollo, right?"

Starbuck wasn't sure if Frosty intended that remark as a dig or if he was being sincere. "Right," was all she said.

* * *

Commander Adama felt like he had been chasing shadows for two days. He poured over the wireless logs every day, but came up with nothing suspicious. The Red Needle that Lee had allegedly used to kill himself was sent back to the lab for additional testing. Nothing was turned up except confirmation that traces of Lee's blood were on it. Sergeant Hadrian conducted subsequent interviews with every pilot, including all of Lee's roommates. The only thing that remotely tied anyone to Tom Zarek was the fact that both Lt. Mullins and Ensign Karo were from Sagittarron, Tom Zarek's own home world and the colony that he represented on the Quorum of Twelve. It was a fact that William noted, but he didn't want to proceed down the path of profiling people solely on the basis of their birthplace. After all, Petty Officer Dualla was also from Sagittarron and William knew she would never ally herself with Tom Zarek for any purpose whatsoever. 

Repeatedly, William found himself returning to the same point at which he'd begun. And the truth of it was that all of the real evidence surrounding Lee's near-death pointed to attempted suicide. There was absolutely nothing concrete to indicate the existence of a murder conspiracy. If it was a conspiracy, the mastermind had covered his tracks very well.

William had no contact with Lee while he was on Colonial One. He only kept tabs on his son through his own visits with Doctor Marsh. She shuttled over daily for her scheduled sessions with Lee, and reported to the commander that Lee was resting up very well and rapidly gaining his strength back. She also told him that while Lee was well-rested, he was also growing increasingly restless and bored. He was also frustrated by the fact that his lost memories still remained elusive. In fact, he hadn't made any progress at all in that regard.

"If he still isn't remembering anything, what does he talk about with you?" William tried probing Doctor Marsh one day.

She had just given him the evil eye. "You know better than to ask that. My conversations with Lee are strictly confidential."

"Then you don't tell him anything about your conversations with me?"

"Absolutely not. Of course that doesn't mean that _you_ can't raise those subjects with him yourself."

"That's a lot easier said than done Doctor."

"Isn't everything?"

The commander was roused from his ponderings over his son's situation when he received two visitors in his quarters. Colonel Tigh and Petty Officer Dualla approached his desk.

"Yes Colonel?" he addressed his XO.

The Colonel deferred to PO Dualla with a nod. She produced a file folder and held it out to the commander. "The missing transcripts Sir. They've turned up."

Adama reached for the folder. "Where were they?"

Colonel Tigh answered this time. "They were found in Lieutenant Mullins' possession."

Adama's brow furled. "Lieutenant Mullins? Frosty?"

"Yes Sir," Tigh confirmed with a nod.

As Adama flipped open the folder to inspect the pages inside, Dualla informed him, "I've already checked through them Commander and unfortunately one of the messages in question is still missing: the one sent from Galactica."

Adama looked up from the folder with a dark expression. "_Still_ missing?"

"Yes Sir," she said softly. "The other one, the one to the Astral Queen, is marked there with the red flag on the edge. You previously noted it in the morning report."

Adama pulled out the flagged page. He read the computer-transcribed message. "Job completed ahead of schedule." Adama did vaguely recall seeing this message on his report. He'd thought little of it at the time, assuming it was merely a repair crew declaring they had completed their assigned task and were returning to the Astral Queen. Now, however, the meaning of the message took on a potentially sinister twist. On the other hand, it could still be meaningless. They needed to know the content of the other message.

Adama scowled in frustration. "Does Lieutenant Mullins have an explanation?" he said darkly.

"We should find out soon," Colonel Tigh told him. "I've just sent Sergeant Hadrian to escort the lieutenant to the interrogation room."

Adama nodded grimly. "Tell her I want to know exactly what that missing message said and I want to know who it was sent to. I want _names_. Do you understand Colonel?"

Tigh nodded. "Yes I do."

"And verify whether or not there was even a work crew from the Astral Queen on the Geminon Traveler that night."

"Will do."

"Thank you Dee, that will be all," the commander said to Dualla. She saluted and departed from the room.

Colonel Tigh said, "We should also check with Doctor Baltar and find out if Frosty's blood sample has been tested yet. Can't be too careful."

Adama shook his head. "If he was tested, the result was negative or the doctor would have reported it."

Tigh inclined his head. "Unless it was a false negative... like Valerii's. Mullins had even more time to tamper with his blood sample than she had."

"In which case any prior results don't matter," Adama pointed out. "After Sergeant Hadrian has completed her questioning, have Doctor Baltar draw a fresh blood sample and test it immediately."

"Yes Sir." Tigh paused for a few seconds rather than heading right off to carry out his orders. "I hope I'm not out of line by saying that I actually hope this pans out."

"What would be out of line about that?"

"Think about it," Tigh said. "We're actually hoping that we have a murder conspiracy or a Cylon spy rather than a suicidal CAG. That's kind of backward, don't you think?"

Adama offered his XO a slight smile. "Maybe so, but I know what you mean."

* * *

As evening crept on Sergeant Hadrian made her report to Commander Adama and acting-CAG, Lieutenant Thrace. "Lieutenant Mullins still won't admit to any knowledge of the transcripts," she told them. "He also denies knowing anything about the missing Red Needles." 

"In spite of the fact that the folder was under his bed?" Starbuck commented bitterly.

"He claims it must have been planted there by someone else," the Master-at-Arms replied.

Starbuck rolled her eyes in reaction.

"Commander," Hadrian said, "if we are going to keep him confined, I need to know what to charge him with. The fact is we really don't have any evidence of criminal activity other than the misplacement of some innocuous message transcripts that were due to be removed from archive and destroyed in a few more days anyway."

Adama considered the dilemma glumly. Frosty was hiding something. He was certain of it, but the big pilot had been completely steadfast in his denials. They could accuse him of misplacement of documentation, but that was all, and under most circumstances it would barely justify a reprimand.

Starbuck suggested, "How about possession of pornographic material? I know it's not much, but it could at least justify _one_ night in the brig."

Sergeant Hadrian cracked a smile. "I'd forgotten about those."

Adama asked for clarification. "Those what? A few dirty pictures or something?"

"Yes Sir," the sergeant confirmed with a nod.

Adama gave a single chuckle. "Ordinarily I wouldn't care one whit, but if it keeps him contained for now, do it. And no visitors at all. Doctor Baltar will be by in the morning to take a blood sample, then I want you to talk to Frosty again and see if he's willing to change his tune any."

"Yes Commander." Sergeant Hadrian saluted and left the commander alone with Lieutenant Thrace.

Starbuck shook her head sadly. "I just can't see it," she said. "Frosty. I can't even count how many times both Lee and I have trusted him to watch our backs, and he's never let us down."

"Neither did Sharon," Adama said bitterly.

Kara was surprised to hear the commander mention that name. Sharon Valerii, the trusted pilot who had turned out to be a Cylon assassin, was usually a taboo subject around the commander. William Adama had nearly been killed by a woman whom Kara had once called a friend. "So," Kara said carefully, "you believe that Frosty might actually be a Cylon?"

"I don't know," Adama said quietly.

"But _if_ he is," Starbuck said, "then what's with this whole conspiracy theory? Why would a Cylon bother with Tom Zarek?"

"I don't know Kara," Adama said. "Maybe they'd prefer to have Zarek in charge than President Roslin. Maybe there is no conspiracy and he's just a lone assassin. Maybe he's not a Cylon at all and this is just pure human weaknesses at work. As a species we are a very flawed creation."

"Why are we, as a people, worth saving?" Kara said softly, quoting one of the commander's own speeches. Adama reacted with a gentle smile to his recognition of her words. "We are pretty frakked up, aren't we?" Kara said. "We even seem to inflict the most pain upon the people we love the most."

Kara wasn't looking at him, but Adama watched her face carefully. "Lee should be back on board tomorrow for at least a few hours. He has a checkup scheduled with Doctor Cottle."

Kara still didn't look toward the commander. "Well," she said, "I hope he gets a clean bill of health. I guess we're also both assuming that Lee was right all along. He didn't do it."

"I am becoming more convinced of that," Adama said.

"No luck with his memories though?"

"According to Doctor Marsh, no. And apparently it's really pissing him off."

* * *

"Good morning Lieutenant," Doctor Baltar said cheerily as he stepped into the brig and greeted Lieutenant Mullins. "I trust you slept well last night?" 

"Hardly," Frosty grumbled. "What's all this?" He pointed toward the bag that Baltar brought into the holding area with him.

"This," Baltar explained, "is so that I can take a blood sample." He turned to the guard who was standing right behind him. "Thank you, I can take it from here."

The guard looked uncertain. "I'm not sure you should be alone with the prisoner Doctor."

Baltar laughed. "Please, Sergeant. The prisoner has only been charged with possession of pornography. Now tell me honestly, what teenage boy hasn't done the same? Hmmm? Now please wait outside. There is the issue of doctor-patient confidentiality here after all. I won't be but a minute."

Ignoring the marine, Baltar turned back to the prisoner. "Now Lieutenant, please extend your right arm through the bars for me." Frosty complied without complaint. When the marine saw that everything appeared to be under control he stepped outside.

"What's this all about Doc?" Frosty asked.

Baltar wrapped a strip of stretchy plastic around Frosty's large bicep and pulled it tight. "I am taking a blood sample to determine whether or not you are a Cylon."

Frosty's eyes bugged. "I'm no frakking Cylon!"

"Then you've nothing to worry about. Do you?"

"I'm not so sure of that," Frosty said. He dropped his voice considerably in volume before he spoke again. "I think they suspect something," he whispered.

Still acting calm and casual, Baltar removed a needle from his bag and positioned it over a bulging vein in Frosty's arm. "You have nothing to worry about," he said very quietly.

"Why should I believe you?" Frosty whispered.

Baltar didn't bother looking up from what he was doing as he replied, "I told you that if you just followed my instructions with the IV, Captain Adama would never get his memory back. Didn't I?"

"Yes."

"Well _has_ he?"

"Not _yet_," Frosty hissed.

"And he's not going to," Baltar said as though speaking to a very slow child. "Just trust me. Everything will work out just fine." Frosty's blood filled the sample tube.

"That's easy for you to say. You're not the one behind bars."

"You're only here because you had some dirty pictures in your locker. Now relax. It's all under control." Baltar sealed up the collection tube and began writing on the label.

"Yeah right," Frosty muttered anxiously.

Baltar finally looked the lieutenant directly in the eye. "Listen to me Frosty. You must never forget that there are other people counting on you. _Important_ people. They trust you not to let them down. Don't disappoint them. Besides... you have nothing to worry about. Trust me... don't say anything... and all will work out fine."

"What about these frakking transcripts they keep asking about?" Frosty asked. "I don't know anything about those. Where did they come from?"

Baltar sighed and slipped the blood sample into his bag. "All right, all right. We'll make this easier for you. When they ask you again about the transcripts, I want you to confess."

"Confess?" Frosty looked panicked.

"Let me finish," Baltar scolded him. "Just listen up and I'll tell you exactly what to say."


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

William walked out of another rough session with Doctor Marsh to find Colonel Tigh waiting for him in the hallway. "What's up Colonel?"

"Lee's back," the colonel told his commander. "He arrived about a half hour ago for his checkup with Doctor Cottle."

"Did you see him?"

The XO nodded. "I met him on the deck."

"How did he look?"

"He looked fine to me," Tigh said. "He even said he was glad to be back on board here. Apparently Roslin was damn near smothering him over there. She not only didn't let him do any work, she practically didn't let him lift a finger."

"Poor baby," William said sarcastically.

"Anyway, he didn't spell it right out for me, but I don't think he's planning to go back after he sees Cottle."

"He wants to stay here?"

"Sounded like it to me," Tigh said. "I uh, took the initiative of assigning a Marine guard outside sickbay. Lee doesn't know about it yet, but if he is staying on I thought you might want somebody shadowing him to keep an eye on him."

Adama nodded his approval. "Good thinking. Thank you Colonel. Any update from Sergeant Hadrian?"

"Not yet."

"What about Doctor Baltar?"

"He took the blood sample, but I had to put a boot up his ass to hurry him and get the test started. That guy sure tends to get uppity now that he's_ Mr. Vice President_."

Adama chuckled. "Yeah I know. But the test is running?"

"Yes Sir. It'll be late in the day before we get a result though."

"All right. Let me know as soon you hear anything from the master-at-arms."

Tigh took his leave and headed back for the CIC while Adama dropped in to sickbay. He spotted Lee some distance down the bay. Doctor Cottle was examining Lee's hand where the IV had been ripped out a few days ago. He just watched his son from a distance. Lee did look much better. His "vacation" on Colonial One had apparently been good for him.

"_Damn it_," William thought. "_I actually owe her one_."

Rather than interrupt the examination, William stopped one of the nurses. "Could you please let Captain Adama know that I'd like him to stop by my quarters when he's done here?"

"Of course Commander."

"Thank you."

* * *

William had scarcely been in his quarters for more than 30 minutes before Colonel Tigh and Sergeant Hadrian dropped by. He adjusted his glasses slightly and stood up to speak with them. "What's the news?" 

"Lieutenant Mullins has changed his story slightly," the master-at-arms said.

Adama perked up. "What does he say?"

Sergeant Hadrian explained, "He admits to swiping the transcripts from the archives, but he said he was only covering for Ensign Karo."

"Covering what?" Adama inquired.

"An unauthorized call to a girlfriend," Hadrian answered.

"A girlfriend?" Adama was skeptical.

Colonel Tigh spoke up. "The story is that Ensign Karo was so shaken up by Apollo's attempted suicide that he _had_ to call his girlfriend on the Geminon Traveler. Since it was unauthorized and not for any official business, Frosty was concerned that Stinger would get into trouble. So he swiped the transcripts to prevent anyone from noticing the call. He says he was just covering for his partner."

Skeptical, Adama asked, "And what does Ensign Karo say about this?"

Sergeant Hadrian replied with some bit of amusement, "The kid's a near basket case. He admitted he made the call and then _begged_ for forgiveness."

Disappointment began seeping into William's heart. "Does this girlfriend have a name?"

"Shelby Holt," the master-at-arms replied.

"Check it out. Find out if she exists," Adama told them.

"I've already done that Commander," Sergeant Hadrian said. "I spoke to the pilot on the Geminon Traveler and he confirmed that Ms. Holt is one of his crew. She was helping to oversee the work detail from the Astral Queen that night."

"So it all checks out, including the work crew," Adama said frowning.

"Yes Sir," Sergeant Hadrian replied. "Apparently the Geminon Traveler has had a problem with a stoppage in the bilge or something, and the Astral Queen sent a crew of 4 to work on it."

Adama glowered over the top edge of his glasses. "Then Karo gets a week on KP."

"What about Mullins?" Colonel Tigh asked.

"He gets latrine duty, a formal reprimand, and confined to quarters while off-duty for the rest of the week."

"So do we turn him loose now Sir?" Sergeant Hadrian asked.

"Confined to quarters," Adama repeated.

"Yes Sir."

Colonel Tigh hung back as the master-at-arms went about her duties. "Not quite what we were hoping for huh?"

Adama's face was grim. "Not quite, but... Saul, make a few causal inquiries about Ms. Holt. I want to know more about her."

Tigh shook his head skeptically. "You're reaching again."

"Maybe," Adama admitted. "Or Ms. Holt might be part of it all. We may not have anything to prosecute Frosty on right now, but I'm not quite ready to exonerate him. Make sure he stays confined to quarters but don't let anyone know you're still asking questions. Let me know when Doctor Baltar gets his test results, and keep that shadow on Lee."

"Yes Sir," Colonel Tigh acknowledged. "Perhaps someone on the President's staff could make those inquiries about the Holt girl. It might be less suspicious if it didn't come from the military."

Adama nodded his concurrence. "Good idea. See to it Colonel."

Tigh hesitated. "You know Bill... it is possible that everything really is exactly what it _appears_ to be. All the evidence, all the witness testimonies... it all still points to suicide."

Adama grimly replied, "I know."

* * *

Lee descended the stairs to his father's quarters with some trepidation. He wasn't sure what kind of greeting to expect. His departure from Galactica three days earlier had been rather abrupt, and he hadn't even taken the opportunity to say, "See ya later Dad," before leaving the ship. He anticipated that his father had probably not been happy about it. He might even still be flaming furious. Lee actually did feel a little guilty about how he had run away from home, but he still felt it was the right choice to make at the time. If he'd spoken to his father before departing, it would have just sparked another heated argument. Well, he couldn't very well avoid the Old Man forever, so Lee braced himself and forged ahead. 

Just inside the hatch, Lee saw his father seated on the couch of his living space, pouring over a stack of papers. "Commander, you wanted to see me?"

William looked up and saw his son standing at near attention. Lee was dressed casually in sweatpants and tanks rather than in uniform but his posture fairly screamed military formality. William tried to offer a welcoming smile. "Of course I wanted to see you. It's been days Lee. Have a seat."

Lee was pleasantly surprised by his father's reasonably warm welcome, but he couldn't help feeling wary. When was the hammer going to fall? He sat down on the couch, but didn't relax. He was seated forward with his elbows on his knees. "First off Sir, I think I owe you an apology. I should have notified you in advance that I was leaving the ship."

"You had permission from Doctor Cottle," William said.

"Yes Commander, but I still should have said something to you in person. I'm sorry that I didn't Sir."

William had not failed to notice that Lee was addressing him completely by formal title. "I would have appreciated that," he said. "But... it looks like they took decent care of you over there. You look good."

Lee finally cracked a slight smile. "They took very good care of me. A little too good at times."

"You got all the rest you needed?"

"Plenty," Lee said. "In fact Doctor Cottle just cleared me for light duty... pending Doctor Marsh's evaluation in a few days, of course." Lee held up his left hand, which was now minimally bandaged. "Hopefully by then, this will be all healed and I can even be cleared for flight."

"That's good," William said. "Very good. What time are you planning to head back?"

"Back?"

"To Colonial One."

Lee was again surprised. His father didn't appear to be at all opposed to the idea that Lee might be leaving the Galactica again. "Um, actually Commander, I was planning to stay put."

"Oh?" William had already expected to hear that, thanks to Saul's earlier report, but he tried not to let Lee know that. "Don't like the food over there?"

"Actually the food there is better than here," Lee said. "But I think I've pretty much got my strength back now and I'd really like to see if I can concentrate more on getting my memory back."

"No luck at all over the past few days?"

"None," Lee said, his disappointment written all over his face. "Before I left, I really felt like I was right on the verge. It was uncomfortable and really unsettling but... at least it assured me that the memories are there. On Colonial One, it was comfortable and I was able to rest all I needed, but I think I need to be here, back in this environment to jolt my brain back into gear." Lee laughed at himself. "I don't think I'll remember until I'm willing to face the discomfort that comes with it."

William chuckled. "Sounds like something Doctor Marsh might have said."

Lee nodded, laughing. "Yes, it is."

"Tough little cookie, isn't she?"

Lee chortled. "Downright brutal when she wants to be."

William smiled in amusement. "So she's dropped the hammer on you too huh?"

"Heavily," Lee said, smiling. "In fact, I'm due for another beating in just a short while."

"Good luck."

"Gee thanks."

"Don't get smart-alecky. I already had my beating today." William pushed himself to his feet. "Would you like a drink? I only have water, of course."

"Yes thanks."

William walked just around the corner and poured a couple of glasses, smiling to himself over the fact that Lee had dropped all the formalities. "Have you seen Kara yet?"

"No," Lee replied. "I came straight here from sickbay, so I haven't had a chance to hunt her down yet. How is she?"

"Very busy," William said. He set down the pitcher and brought the filled glasses back over to the couch. He handed one to Lee. "The pilot shortage is continuing to be a real problem and the last few days haven't helped." He settled onto the couch beside Lee.

"Did something happen?" Lee asked, looking concerned. He hadn't heard any reports of emergencies while on Colonial One, but the President had been keeping him very sheltered while he was there.

William took a long drink, then set his glass down. "Actually Lee, we were following up on what appeared to be a couple of leads that might have implicated Lieutenant Mullins in a plot to kill you."

Lee almost choked on a mouthful of water. He swallowed hard. "Frosty?" he asked, stunned.

"But," William added, "they didn't really pan out after all. We're still checking on a few details just to be thorough, but it looks more like a pilot who just fudged on the rules a little."

"How so?" Lee asked.

"Some racy photos hidden in a locker, an unauthorized late-night call to a girlfriend, that kind of thing."

Lee looked bewildered. "And _this_ was part of a plot to kill me?"

Adama shrugged deprecatingly. "Initial appearances may have been deceiving. What we saw was a roommate of yours sneaking around trying to cover his tracks and we jumped to conclusions. He is being disciplined, confined to quarters while off-duty for the next several days. So... if you are going to be staying on board, I want you to find alternate sleeping arrangements, at least until everything is fully resolved with Frosty."

Lee sat back and shook his head. "I can't believe Frosty would be involved in anything like that. Some nudie photos sure, but not..." His voice trailed off in disbelief.

"We should have everything fully straightened out soon."

Lee ran a hand through his short dark hair. "Well there are plenty of unused racks in other quarters."

Adama waited a few seconds before suggesting, "You could stay here."

Lee's eyes shifted toward his father. "Here? Right here?"

"Why not? If you can bunk up with President Roslin, why not me?"

Lee burst out laughing. "Oh come on Dad. I was on the same ship, not in the same room!" Lee shook his head incredulously.

William smirked. He didn't say it out loud but he was privately pleased to hear that statement from Lee. "Well whatever. My offer stands. You're welcome to crash here."

Still laughing mildly, Lee said, "Thanks, but I'll be fine in regular officers' quarters. There are plenty of open racks to choose from." Lee's demeanor then quieted considerably. "I uh, I didn't think you were doing any investigating at all into what might have happened."

William said gently, "Well, we haven't had much to go on Lee. We've interviewed everyone who saw you that night. We sent the needle back to the lab. It hasn't turned up anything new. To be honest with you, the evidence really doesn't support your claim Son. The only witness who might be able to tell us something different is you. And you haven't been able to tell us much."

Lee nodded, understanding. "So you still think I probably did it. Don't you?" Lee's question wasn't spoken harshly. It was just a request for confirmation.

"I have to still consider that a strong possibility," William replied frankly.

"Is that why you're having me followed?"

William grinned. "I was wondering how quickly you'd notice."

"I don't suppose you're going to let me tell him to get lost?"

"You can tell him, but don't expect results."

Lee frowned. "So how long can I expect to have my new shadow? Until Doctor Marsh informs you that I am not a crackpot?"

Adama considered the question carefully. "Until I'm convinced there's no danger."

Still grimacing, Lee shook his head and stood up. "Thanks for the drink," he said. "I gotta go. It's time to get beat up again."

* * *

Lee smiled when he stepped into Doctor Marsh's office. Perched on the corner of her desk was a familiar metallic sculpture. "Nice flowers," Lee said, walking in and nodded toward the doctor's desk. 

"Aren't they though?" she asked slyly.

"It didn't even occur to me until I got to Colonial One that I'd left that here during my first session."

"Well, I've kept them nicely watered for you. So, how does it feel to be back amidst the chaos?" Doctor Marsh asked.

"Well, Doctor Cottle has cleared me for light duty," Lee replied. "Hopefully my hand will be healed up well enough in the next few days that I can be cleared for flight."

"You know that's not what I asked Lee. Why are you trying to evade the question?"

Lee tried to think through what his reply would be, but then had to just admit, "Because I'm not sure of the answer."

"Yes you are."

Lee shook his head. "No. This time I'm really not. I'm glad to not be bored anymore. But..." Lee's turmoil of thoughts tumbled around his brain. He was having difficulty sorting through them enough to try explaining them. Finally he said, "Okay, um... all this time, I've been angry that no one here was even considering the possibility that I'm not suicidal. They weren't even trying to find out if someone tried to kill me. But just now my father told me that they've been investigating one of my pilots... and as he was telling me about it, I just felt this... _dread_. Dad was doing exactly what I wanted him to do... but I was sitting there hoping that he was going to be proven completely wrong about it. I didn't want it to be true."

Lee sat forward on the couch and rested his head in his hands for a few seconds. "He said something else that I've been considering for the last few days. He said that there is simply no evidence to support my claim that I was attacked. There's no evidence of foul play at all. So... what if he's been right all along?"

"Right about what, Lee?"

In a very quiet voice, Lee asked, "What if I did it? Maybe that's why I can't remember. I've been concentrating so hard on trying to remember _being attacked_... and nothing is coming back. Maybe the reason I'm not remembering is because that isn't what happened. Maybe I just don't want to remember doing it myself."

"All right," Doctor Marsh said gently, "let's pursue this for a little bit. Your memory loss is limited to the few minutes that it took you to walk from the rec room to your quarters, and a few more minutes until Lieutenant Thrace arrived at quarters behind you. Now, suicide is not something that people just do for the heck of it on the spur of the moment. It's a process, not just a singular act. _If_ you did this, it was the culmination of something that you had been considering for some time.

"People do not just decide to go and die. First they experience a significant level of pain. Then it becomes overwhelming, so they start looking for solutions. Eventually, they reach the conclusion that there is no solution and most importantly they come to believe that their situation will never improve. Many times, they don't even really want to die. They just want to escape the pain and they can't see any other way to do it.

"Now, Lee... you and your father had a conversation the afternoon before your attack. Do you remember that?"

"Yeah." Lee remembered it all right. It was not a happy memory, but it was a clear one.

"Do you remember what you told him?"

"We argued," Lee said. "He was still very bitter at me that I had disobeyed an order of his, and I felt that it was _my_ _duty_ to disobey that order. So we argued. Again."

"That's not all you said," Doctor Marsh told him. She flipped through several pages in her notebook before finding what she was looking for. "According to your father you told him that you didn't know why you should bother waking up in the morning... you didn't have any hope that things were going to change... and you thought perhaps you should have just let the Cylons kill you."

"I thought you weren't supposed to tell me what you and my father have talked about," Lee said.

"Don't change the subject," Doctor Marsh said sternly. "We're not discussing your father right now. We're discussing you. Do you remember saying those things?"

Lee thought back to that afternoon. It was his last day as acting-XO, though in truth he'd been doing more than just the XO's job for several weeks. Many members of the crew were discontented with Colonel Tigh's command, so they had taken their business directly to Lee instead. The President and several members of the Quorum of Twelve had done the same. When Colonel Tigh waffled on his decisions, Lee often made the defining suggestions that were finally carried out. And on more than one occasion Colonel Tigh had over-indulged in the liquor that his wife seemed always to have on hand. Kara's lack of discipline over the Air Group, not to mention her own regular insubordination, had not helped matters either.

When he'd walked into his father's quarters that afternoon, Lee had been just about at his wits' end. He'd barely slept or eaten for several days, and he had been hoping that an olive branch might... just _might_ make the commander's transition back to active duty easier for them both. It hadn't turned out that way. At first, he'd received cold indifference from his father, and things had then deteriorated into open hostility. They had even damn near come to blows.

"I was in a pretty crappy-ass mood," Lee told the doctor. "I was stressed... tired..."

"Depressed?" Doctor Marsh asked.

"I guess." Lee winced and corrected himself before Doctor Marsh prodded him to. "I was a bit depressed, yes."

"Do you remember saying those things to your father?"

After a brief hesitation Lee admitted, "Yes I do."

"Did you ever have those same thoughts before that day?"

Lee was thoughtful for several seconds. Then he nodded. "I did, yes."

"Frequently?"

Lee's brow furrowed. "No," he said. "Just occasionally. Like right after the Holocaust when the Cylons just kept coming, and coming, and coming... for five days straight. There were a few times, somewhere after our 200th launch in a row, when I was sitting in the launch tube wondering why I should bother. You know, thinking I should just let them shoot me this time so I can get some sleep."

Doctor Marsh actually smiled at Lee. "Any other times you can specifically recall?"

"After my father was shot... by someone I trusted, someone I was responsible for...one of my own pilots. I had a few bad moments then. And there have been a couple of times late at night... when I wake up from a nightmare... and I wonder if any of us are ever going to be safe again, or if all we're doing is just buying a little time."

"I have news for you Flyboy," Doctor Marsh said. "There's not a single sane person in this fleet who hasn't been awakened late at night wondering the same thing. What I want to know from you right now is what you were thinking when you said goodbye to your father that afternoon."

Lee considered the question. "What was I thinking?"

"Was it 'goodbye' Lee?"

Lee thought about it, then actually cracked a smile. "Not exactly no."

"What's so funny? Your father was very disturbed by the fact that you actually said 'goodbye' to him."

Lee was still grinning. "I really don't remember exactly what word I said. I just remember that I was sick of his shit and I gave up on him. I _gave up_ trying to reach him. I said _something_... maybe it was 'goodbye'...but I was actually flipping him off at the time."

"You flipped him the bird?" Doctor Marsh asked.

"Yeah."

"Your father left out that detail."

"He'd already turned his back on me. He didn't see it."

"And it wasn't a '_you'll be sorry_' kind of gesture?"

"Sorry for what?" Lee asked.

Doctor Marsh clarified her question. "Was it a 'you'll be sorry when I'm dead' gesture?"

Lee looked surprised. "No. It was just a '_frak you, you pissy son-of-a-bitch_' gesture."

"Were you hurt by his rejection that day?"

"Yes," Lee admitted. "It's not fun seeing your father act like he hates you."

"The way that you used to act toward him after your brother died?"

That hammer fell hard. Lee grimaced, then admitted, "Yes, exactly like that."

"Yet Lee, you've also already told me that all through that time when you were so angry with your father about Zak, you also still loved him. Do you recognize then, that even though your father might be angry at you for what he sees as a betrayal, he still loves you?"

After a bit of reflection, Lee nodded. "Yes," he said. "But love doesn't seem to stop us from pissing each other off."

"So when you walked out of that conversation, you were pissed off, hurt, tired, stressed, feeling rejected, isolated..." She sat forward and looked him straight him the eye. "Were you contemplating suicide Lee?"

"No," Lee said quietly.

"Lee?" Doctor Marsh asked very firmly.

"No," Lee said with equal fervor. "I wasn't."

"And during the card game? You remember walking away from the table now. When you did that, were you planning to go and kill yourself?"

Lee shook his head again. "No."

Very sternly, Doctor Marsh asked, "No thoughts of suicide_ at all_?"

"No," Lee declared. "All I was thinking about was that I had a to-do list a meter long for the next morning and I needed to get some sleep."

Doctor Marsh sat back and crossed her arms. "And_ that's it_?" she drilled him.

"Yes," Lee confirmed again.

The doctor's posture relaxed and she smiled at him. "Then why all the sudden doubts Lee? Why are you now wondering if you did it?"

Lee had to take several seconds before replying. "Because it would be easier."

"Easier?"

He explained, "If someone else did this, it means that we have a murderous traitor among us, probably someone that I know... someone I've trusted... and Lords know what other kind of damage that person has done. And we simply can't afford to lose anyone else, especially another pilot like Frosty. But if it's just me... there's no damage, no threat. _And I can fix the problem_." Lee took a very deep breath. "It really would be easier."

Doctor Marsh chuckled. "Lee, we've already talked about your over-developed sense of responsibility. I think your doubts here today are just another example of that. It wasn't up to you to save Zak. It wasn't your fault that one of your pilots was a Cylon. And you don't have to convince yourself that you are suicidal to spare the Galactica from losing another crewmember."

Lee laughed briefly at himself. "I really am a head case, aren't I?"

"You've got some issues," Doctor Marsh agreed readily. "But you are as sane as anyone could possibly be under these circumstances."

Lee inquired, "Does that mean you don't think I'm suicidal?"

"Sane and suicidal are two different issues," she told him.

"You're dodging my question."

Doctor Marsh gave Lee a smug grin. "Tough taters Junior. I get three more sessions with you before I have to answer that question."


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

It was mid-afternoon before Lee was finally finished with all of his doctors' appointments and was free to roam the ship. He headed down to the flight deck, hoping that he might finally catch up with Kara. He hadn't even seen a trace of her in over a week and he needed to talk to her about the night of the attack... and a lot of other nagging issues as well. Even if she didn't have time to sit down with him right away, he hoped to at least arrange a time and place for later.

The flight deck was as busy as ever. The Mark II Vipers needed constant maintenance. Lee looked around, but he didn't see Kara. Chief Tyrol was working with a crewman trying to diagnose an engine problem on Hot Dog's fighter. Lee didn't want to interrupt, but when the chief took a step back to stretch his back Lee thought he looked like he was ready for a break.

"Hey Chief," Lee said, catching the senior enlisted man's eye.

The chief nodded politely. "Captain. I didn't realize you were back on board Sir."

"Came in a few hours ago," Lee said. "You wouldn't happen to have seen Starbuck around lately?"

The chief nodded. "We launched her on CAP about an hour ago."

"Figures," Lee sighed. "Oh hey, I know I already asked Cally to relay my thanks to everybody for the _flowers_, but I really want you to know how much I appreciated it."

Tyrol got a funny look on his face, somewhere between embarrassment and amusement. "Um Sir... it's not that we didn't all share the sentiment with Cally, but you really should know that it was all her doing. It was her idea and she did all the work."

Surprised, Lee asked, "Cally did it all? By herself?"

"Yes Sir."

Lee was genuinely surprised to hear that. Why would she go through so much trouble all by herself to make such an elaborate 'Get Well' card? "Why?" he inadvertently asked out loud.

"I don't know Captain," Tyrol said, still looking amused. "Why would a woman ever want to give a man flowers?" His smirk intensified a bit before he was called back to the problematic Viper engine.

Still puzzled, Lee left the Chief to his work. He looked around and caught sight of Cally working on a Raptor farther aft in the large bay. He strolled in her direction, considering the situation. Why would she go to so much trouble? Why would she think of making the gesture in the first place? Why did she hug him that morning when she came to see him in sickbay?

Still some distance from where Cally was working, Lee stopped and watched her. "Lee Adama, you're a dense fool," he muttered to himself. He had never considered before that there might ever be any kind of close relationship between himself and Crewman Specialist Cally because there simply _couldn't_ be. She was enlisted. He was an officer. It wasn't that Lee considered himself better than his enlisted peers. It was simply military regulations. No fraternization between officers and enlisted personnel was allowed. They could maintain a friendly working relationship, but _nothing_ more.

So now what? Lee felt like he needed to say something to her, but he had no idea what. He walked the remaining distance to where she was working. She caught sight of him approaching and a bright smile lit up her face. "Hey Cally," he greeted her.

"Captain!" She grabbed a rag and wiped the grease off of her hands. "I thought you were still on Colonial One."

"Just came back a little while ago," he told her. He nodded toward the Raptor. "Sick bird?"

"Just temperamental," she shrugged. "I'll get her straightened out."

"I'm sure you will. You're damn good at your job."

Cally smiled, trying to force herself not to blush. "Thanks. We don't hear that very often from the pilots."

"You only hear the complaints, right?"

"Oh, those come in loud and clear."

"We do appreciate all your support though," he told her. We? Buck up, Warrior. Say what you mean. "_I_ have definitely appreciated all of your support, and I'm not just talking about the great work you do on my Viper. I hear you did a good job helping me to fight those pesky suicide rumors."

"I tried," Cally told him. "Some folks are still skeptical though."

"I know," Lee said.

"No luck with your memory?"

"Not yet. But now that I'm back on Galactica, I'm sure it won't be much longer."

"And then you'll prove all the frakking skeptics wrong."

All the frakking skeptics. Like the commander. Lee was struck suddenly by the fact that Cally actually had far more faith in him than his own father. "That'll be nice," he said. Dropping his eyes to the floor, Lee steadied up his courage before looking up at Cally again. "Cally I wish that uh... I wish that regulations didn't..."

Guessing where Lee was going with the conversation, Cally intercepted him. "I know," she said simply. "But they do, don't they?"

Lee smiled at her. He knew that she understood. "Yeah, they do."

"And there is a good reason for it," Cally said. "I mean just look at what a fiasco it was for the Chief and Boomer... even _before_ she turned out to be a Cylon."

Lee thought about that example and nodded. "Still..." Lee just didn't know what to say next. All he could do was stare at Cally like a shy schoolboy, and Lee had never been shy even back when he was a schoolboy. He felt like a fool.

Cally just smiled at him. Lee Adama was downright adorable when he was flustered, but this was a subject she had thought about many many times already and though Cally was young, she was not naive. "I know," she just said.

"Thank you for the flowers," he finally said. "I hope you don't mind, I've left them with a friend for a few days until my quartering arrangements get settled."

"Lieutenant Thrace?" she asked, sounding just slightly bitter.

"Actually no," Lee said. "Doctor Marsh."

"The shrink?"

Lee chuckled. "Yeah. She's actually pretty charming company when she's not busy making you cry."

Cally smiled. "She makes you cry?" Somehow that sounded incredibly endearing.

Lee cleared his throat. "Kind of like how being punched square in the middle of the face makes you cry."

"I wouldn't know," Cally said. "I'll have to take your word on that. Speaking of throwing punches... um, have you talked to Lieutenant Thrace lately?"

Lee shook his head. "No. I haven't seen her since the day I woke up."

"She's one of the skeptics, you know."

Lee was thoughtful for a few seconds. "I wasn't sure, but I'm not surprised." Lee took a step back and said, "Well, I won't keep you from your work any longer. Thanks again Cally, for everything."

She offered him a bittersweet smile. "Any time Captain."

Lee turned and walked away feeling an odd sense of loss. You couldn't lose what you've never even had, but here was a potential opportunity that Lee would never have the option to pursue, and he regretted that. If only the regulations didn't... But frak it, they did.

Lee headed off the flight deck without much thought as to where he was going. Almost by instinct, he found himself in the vicinity of the briefing room. He looked inside and found it deserted, as expected. Stepping through the hatch Lee touched his hand on the photograph taped to the wall and wandered down toward the front of the room. The flight schedule was scrawled almost illegibly on the whiteboard. Had Kara been writing it up in her sleep? Entries were crossed out, half-erased, and scribbled over other entries. How the hell had the squadron known what the heck they were expected to do? Knowing Kara's horrible aversion for documentation, Lee guessed that she was keeping everything in her head and just passed along flight assignments verbally.

Shaking his head over the scribbled chaos, he left the briefing room and made his way to the rec room. Several pilots were relaxing around at the tables, chatting or playing various games. Lee sought out the most senior pilot around. "Helo, can I talk to you for a second?"

Lieutenant Agathon looked up from the hot rod magazine he was reading. It was an old issue, published before the Holocaust, but Helo hadn't had as much of a chance yet as all the other pilots to work his way through the stack of the ship's old periodicals. He had spent the first couple months of the war stranded on Caprica until Kara had brought him back to Galactica. He set the magazine aside and sat up a little straighter. "Of course Captain. I didn't realize you were back on board."

"I've been hearing that a lot today," Lee said as he took a seat next to Helo. "Do you happen to know what time Kara is due back from CAP? I couldn't make heads or tails of the schedule in the briefing room."

"Yeah," Helo grinned. "That is a challenge, isn't it? Starbuck seems to be the only one who can read it. Personally I think she's just bullshitting everybody and the board doesn't mean a damn thing. She just makes it up in her head as she goes along. Anyway, I think she's not due back until about 23:00 hours."

"Late shift, huh? Figures." Lee drummed his fingers on the tabletop. "Okay, next question. Do you still have an empty rack in your quarters?"

"A rack?"

"Yeah. I need to make alternate arrangements. It should just be for a few days."

Helo grinned broadly. "Yeah, there's a couple. In fact, if you'd like to just switch over permanently, I'd be glad to give you a hand moving your things."

"No, no. That's not necessary," Lee told him. "It's just for a few days at most. Really."

Helo just grinned wider. "You and Kara, you're such a pair."

Lee was puzzled. "How's that?"

Helo explained, "She hasn't been sleeping in that room since the attack either. She won't ask anybody to trade with her, and she won't move her stuff. Yet, every night she comes into my room and takes whatever rack is open rather than sleeping in her own. In fact, if you want to make sure you catch up with her, just hang out in there and she's bound to turn up."

Lee hadn't a clue what to think about that. Kara hadn't slept in her own rack for nearly two weeks? Lee had also noticed that Helo referred to the event as an "attack". Apparently Helo was not among the skeptics.

"So," Helo asked, "any more luck with your memories?"

"Not yet," Lee said. "But I think I'm close."

"That's good," Helo said. He shook his head. "The bastard is going to be sorry."

"So... you believe that I didn't do it to myself?"

Helo answered, "Well, that's what Cally said that you said."

"It is, but I wasn't sure that anyone but Cally would believe me."

Helo bit his lip in a smile. "Well, to be honest Sir, you are a pretty hot topic of debate around the ship. Opinions are still divided, but it seems like the folks who know you believe that you didn't do it. I haven't known you as long as the rest of the squadron, but a lot of people that I trust believe you, so I do too."

Lee was touched by Helo's trust, but also surprised by it. The people who knew him believed him? That notion also surprised him since the two people who supposedly knew him the best, his father and Kara, were still harboring doubts. "Thanks Helo," he said. "How has Starbuck been weighing in on the argument?"

Helo wagged a finger toward Lee. "Now that's the funny thing. She hasn't been. Yeah, I know... Starbuck avoiding an argument? How often does that happen? But really, Starbuck's been pretty mum on the subject. In fact, she's been pretty quiet on about everything lately. No yelling. No teasing. No insults. And you'll never guess how she's been closing pre-flight briefings."

"How?" Lee asked.

Helo laughed. "She actually tells everybody, 'Be careful out there.' Can you believe it?"

Lee was mystified. "She doesn't say, 'Good hunting,'?"

"Nope. It's like she's turning into a mother hen all of a sudden."

Thoughtfully, Lee said, "Trying to act like everyone's best friend."

"Exactly! I think she's even given up smoking."

Lee was stymied over this bit of information. Just when he'd started to believe that he was thinking clearly about Kara at last, she muddied up the waters again. Had that night really freaked her out much more than Lee expected? What about his other roommates?

"What about Frosty and Stinger? What have they been saying?"

"They've been as quiet about it as Starbuck. I think maybe they feel guilty."

"Guilty?"

"Yeah, you know. They were right there and slept right through it until Starbuck hauled their asses out of bed. They've taken some ribbing about it from the deck crew and the some of the pilots, but they don't talk about it. Stinger seems more freaked about it than Frosty though. He's been really jumpy lately. Oh, and we're thinking about changing their call signs."

"Why's that?"

"You've heard of the trouble they've been in the last few days?"

"Tidbits."

"Well nobody has told us the details either, but we're hearing enough to know it's a perfect opportunity for new nicknames. For Stinger, we're thinking maybe 'Whipped'. And Frosty is likely to become 'Porno'."

Lee hung his head and laughed. "The commander might overrule that last one, but you're right. It would serve 'em right."

* * *

Kara was yawning by the time her skids touched the landing deck and she initiated the mag lock. Then came the slow ride down the elevator to the flight deck and the tow into the hanger bay. She unlatched the cockpit canopy and shoved it forward. A crewman was already on a ladder reaching in to unhook her helmet from the oxygen hose. Then she pulled off her helmet and handed it to the crewman along with the locking collar. Finally, her patrol was done! 

Kara had grown to loathe those extra-long patrols. She loved flying. Hell, flying was in her blood. But after the first 5 hours, circling through deep space was just plain boring, and there were still 5 hours left to go. There wasn't any choice in the matter. They just didn't have enough pilots to cover the schedule if the flights were any shorter. She was glad that Frosty and Stinger were still on the schedule, even though she was still concerned that their Red Needles remained unaccounted for. It was a matter that she would need to speak with the commander about. The damn things needed to be found.

Kara arrived at the closed hatch to her quarters and stopped there. Yet again, she had to psych herself up just to reach for the handle and open the door. After a few deep breaths, she heaved the door open. It was dark inside. She stepped through the hatchway and her heart jumped in her chest. Frosty and Stinger were both in their racks, asleep. Kara's hands started shaking. This was just all too damn familiar. It was a scene she relived in her nightmares every single night. Her eyes involuntarily slid toward Lee's rack. It was empty. Her pounding heart calmed down a bit. Of course Lee wouldn't be there. This was reality, not a nightmare, and Lee was still recuperating on Colonial One.

"_Get a grip Kara,_" she thought to herself. "_Just get frakking grip!_"

She crossed the room quickly to her locker and grabbed her shower bag, a clean tank, and a pair of sweatpants. Then she hurriedly left the room on her way to the head. Her nerves usually quieted down on her walk through the hallways, but seeing everything almost exactly like it had been _that night_ had left Kara very shaken. She avoided eye contact with everyone along the way and was relieved when she arrived at the showers.

A few people were using the other facilities, but Kara was alone in the showers. She stripped off her flight suit, since she hadn't stayed long enough in quarters to do it there. She dropped her clothes on a bench and brought her shampoo bottle with her to one of the stations. She cranked on the water while standing directly under the showerhead. She didn't care if it came on cold at first. In fact, she welcomed the short blast of cold water over her body. It helped to clear her head a little. As she lathered up her hair, the water warmed up and she began to feel more relaxed. She began to relax a little too much and she started yawning again.

She closed her eyes when the shampoo started dripping over her face, and she leaned into the spray of water to rinse it off. As soon as she closed her eyes, her mind started generating images again. _The room was dark. Frosty and Stinger were already in their racks, asleep. They had early CAP in the morning. Lee was already in his rack too. But, oddly he hadn't taken his boots off before climbing up and lying down. He must be really wiped out. He wasn't asleep yet though. His eyes were still open. Hey Lee... just take your damn money! His hand was limp. His body was limp. Lee was dead._

Kara forced her lids back open again, and immediately felt the sting of shampoo as it ran into her eyes. She ignored the sting. She preferred it to the horrors she saw when she closed her eyes. Her eyes were red and teary by the time she shut the water off and reached for her towel. She dried herself and pulled on her clean change of clothes. She'd neglected to grab either a pair of shoes or socks. She bundled up her flight suit, boots, and shower bag and walked out of the head.

Barefoot and damp-haired she walked through the sparsely populated hallways. She caught a glimpse of a wall clock and saw that it was just after midnight. She reached the corner where she needed to turn left to go back to her quarters. She stopped there. She stood there. Then she abruptly turned to the right. She chided herself for her cowardice, but she couldn't go back to that room that night, not even to drop off her shower bag and clothes. Not only were Frosty and Stinger both tucked sleeping into the racks, it was even damn near the same time of night as it had been when she'd walked in there _that night_ and found Lee...

She reached the hatch to the quarters that Helo slept in. All the pilots in that room were used to seeing her in there by now, and she knew there were at least 3 empty racks available, even when none of the occupants were on duty. Calming herself down, she pulled open the hatch and stepped inside as quietly as she could. She pulled the hatch shut behind her and turned around to see which racks were open.

Then her heart skipped a beat and Kara's breath froze in her throat. _Lee was lying there...on his back. Still. Unmoving._ Kara dropped her bundle on the floor and involuntarily ran over, grabbing at Lee's arm. She shook him hard.

Lee started awake and bolted upright. Kara jumped back and screamed. Lee looked down at her, blinking sleep and confusion from his eyes. "Kara?"

Kara had woken everyone in the room. Helo leaned out of his rack. "What's going on?" he asked.

Lee stared at Kara. Even in the dim light he could see that she looked awful. Her hair was damp and mussed. Her eyes were puffy and red. She had no shoes on. And she looked like she'd just seen a ghost. He swung his legs around over the edge of the rack. "Kara, are you all right?" he asked, deeply concerned. Kara didn't answer. She just turned and ran out of the room, leaving the hatch open behind her.

"What the frak is her problem?" Hot Dog mumbled sleepily.

Lee hopped down from the rack. "I'll find out," he told the others. He grabbed his running shoes from the unassigned locker he was borrowing and quickly slipped them on.

"Is everything all right in the there?" someone asked from the hatchway.

Lee looked up and saw an armed marine standing in the hatchway, looking at him warily. "It's fine," he said, motioning for the marine to step back into the hallway. Helo was still sitting up, watching, and also looking very concerned. "I'll take care of her," Lee told him. Helo gave him a thumbs-up and settled back down to sleep.

The marine was standing nearby when Lee stepped out of the room and shut the hatch. "I heard someone scream," the marine said.

"It wasn't me," Lee told his shadow.

"I figured that. It sounded like a woman. Was that Starbuck who went running off?"

Lee didn't bother answering him. He couldn't dismiss the marine, but that didn't mean he had to include the man in his own private affairs.

There was no sign of Kara in the hallways, but Lee knew there were only a limited number of places he needed to look. He considered going down to the flight deck. Kara lived and breathed flying. If she was upset and wanted to feel calm and comfortable, being near her Viper was one option. But there was always a crew at work on the flight deck, and Kara hadn't looked like she wanted anybody to see her. She wanted to be alone somewhere. Lee headed for the pilots' briefing room.

He entered at the back of the room and reflexively touched his hand to the photograph on the wall. As he came around on the side aisle, he glimpsed a tousled, wet, blonde head over the top of one of the front-row chairs. Front and center. That was always Kara's seat. He looked back and motioned for his shadow to wait outside, then shut the door.

Lee walked up on her quietly, and even before he could see her face he knew that she was crying. She was sitting with her legs pulled to her chest and her arms wrapped around her knees. Her head leaned against the tall back of the chair. Her eyes were open and tears were tracing down her cheeks. She winced when she caught sight of him walking towards her.

"Kara? What happened back there?"

She roughly scrubbed the tears from her cheeks. "Frak off," she growled.

That response took Lee by surprise. "Nice to finally see you too, good buddy and friend of mine," Lee said sarcastically.

She turned her head away from him. "I didn't know you were back. I thought you were still on Colonial One."

Lee didn't answer. He just sat down on the front edge of the chair next to her.

"Did I ask you to join me?" she asked crossly.

In reply Lee turned toward her and punched her on the arm. It wasn't a harsh blow, but it was enough to shock the heck out of her.

"Ow," she flinched. "What the frak was that for?"

"Hit me back," he told her, standing up and beckoning her toward him.

"What?"

"Come on," he encouraged her. "You've been wanting to smack me for weeks, so do it. I just gave you provocation. No charges. Free hit. Take it. You'll feel better once you do."

Kara glared up at Lee. "I should. You deserve it."

"I do," Lee said. "You saved my life and I never thanked you."

Kara wiped abruptly at a stray tear that slipped from one eye. She looked away from Lee again and wrapped her arms about her knees, making no move to hit him.

Lee crouched down on his haunches in front of her. "Well, if you aren't going to hit me, do you want to talk instead?"

"No," she said grumpily.

Lee settled onto his knees and just watched Kara for a couple of silent minutes. She steadfastly kept her eyes turned away from him. Finally he reached toward her and gave her arms a gentle squeeze. She shivered at the touch, but didn't pull away. He leaned toward her and said quietly, "Thank you."

Kara trembled and broke into tears. Then she suddenly lashed out and punched him in the chest.

Lee had to catch his breath more from surprise than from the power of the hit, but it did smart. "That's a hell of a way to say, 'You're welcome.'"

"You shit!" Kara yelled at him. "Don't ever do that to me again!"

"What? Tap you on the arm? Come on, you've done worse to me while on duty."

"That's not what I mean and you know it," she gritted through her teeth.

Lee did know what she meant. He sighed. "Kara, I didn't do it the first time."

"You died Lee!" she cried. "I walked in and you were lying there...dead!" She punched him again, almost on the same spot.

"Ow." Lee stood up and put some distance between them. "I said you could have _one_ free hit."

Ignoring him, she rose from her chair and faced him. "Just don't you _dare_ ever die again." They stared at each other for several seconds, then Kara's expression deteriorated into fits of laughter.

Lee wasn't actually sure if she was laughing or crying. He decided it was probably a little of both. Still maintaining a little distance, he told her, "I'm afraid that what you're asking for is a little beyond my control. How about if I promise not to do it again for another 50 years or so? Good enough?"

Calming down a little, Kara wiped at her face again. "Only if I get to go first," she said, her voice shaking. "Cause there is no frakking way I can go through that again."

Lee couldn't think of anything to say. He chose not to over-think the situation and just stepped up to her and hugged her. He pulled her head to his shoulder and just held her. Somewhat surprisingly, she let him.

It was several minutes before either of them spoke again. Kara's breath had steadied and her tears had ceased by the time she asked quietly, "Why did you do it Lee?"

Lee groaned. "I didn't."

She pulled away from him and faced him directly. "You threw the game Lee. You pretended to lose, left all of your money and walked away. That's just doesn't make any sense for someone who was in their right mind."

Lee laughed wearily. "Tell me Kara, if I'd won that hand what would have happened next?"

"You _did_ win that hand Lee."

"If I had _let_ you know that I won, would you have let me end it there? Would I have been able to leave and get some sleep?" He didn't bother waiting for her to answer. "No way! You still had a stake. You would have insisted on playing it out and I was too damn tired to argue. I wanted out of the game. It's that simple."

Kara smirked in disbelief and crossed her arms. "So instead of doubling your money, you throw away every cubit you have? The only way that makes sense is if you're planning to off yourself in a few minutes!"

"Oh for crying out loud!" Lee shook his head incredulously. "That was _not_ every cubit I have. I don't gamble with anything that I'm not prepared to lose. Besides, money's worthless Kara. We might as well be playing for plastic chips or jelly beans. Hell, jelly beans are probably more valuable than money these days! It just so happened that I got a good hand on that last round, but I would have made the exact same bet even if Helo had dealt me a stinker."

Kara frowned, obviously still unconvinced. "Yeah, well he didn't deal you a stinker. It was the best damn hand of the night. _And you didn't care_? You want me to believe that you could have flashed your cards, put a big dent in my wallet, and gloated over beating me to the whole flipping squadron... but you chose to go take a nap instead?"

"_I_ knew that I won. That was enough."

Kara scoffed at him. "Bullshit Lee."

Lee's face took on a stern expression. "Unlike you Kara, I don't need everyone around me to fail before I can feel like a success."

Kara looked wounded. "What the frak does that mean?"

"Exactly what it sounds like," he said. "You can't feel like a winner unless you've first made everyone around you feel like losers in the process. _You're_ the one who needs to gloat and exalt yourself. That's you Kara, not me."

Kara was actually speechless. It was probably the first time Lee had ever seen that, but he wasn't done. His voice grew in volume and intensity as he spoke. "It was a game. Just a game! My ego didn't require that the whole ship be informed of how I outplayed the mighty Starbuck in a meaningless, trivial, little game. I knew I beat you and it was a nice way to end the evening. But-I-just-wanted-to-finally-get-some-frakking-sleep!"

Kara's grimacing face dissolved once again into tears, surprising the heck out of Lee. "You shit!" she yelled at him. "When you just gave up and walked out of there like that... you _scared_ me... you...Dorkweed!"

"_Dorkweed_?"

"Nobody does that Lee!" Kara insisted stubbornly. "Nobody just throws it all away unless they're totally brain-frakked!"

"What the frak is a dorkweed?"

Kara choked on a laugh. "Don't do that," she grumbled.

"Don't do what?"

She was trying unsuccessfully to keep a straight face. Through clenched teeth and with hands on her hips she told him, "Don't make me laugh. I'm too mad at you!"

"You're mad at me?"

"Yes!"

"For _not_ being brain-frakked? That's why you're mad at me?"

"I'm mad at you for..."

"For what?" When Kara didn't readily reply, Lee egged her on. "For what?"

After a few more seconds, Kara whispered, "For making me think I killed you."

Lee stared at Kara, not quite believing what he'd just heard. "Wait... I thought... that _you_ thought... that _I_ killed me."

Kara avoided looking at Lee. "I was trying to help you that night," she said quietly.

"By punching me in the face?"

Now she was looking annoyed at him again. "By getting you to blow off a little steam. Gods know you needed it. You were like a volcano ready to blow. I wanted you to have a little fun and relax. I wanted to help you feel better."

"You thought I'd feel better with a concussion?" Lee shook his head, smirking. "Only you Kara. Those helpful Thrace instincts in action. Another woman might have offered sex to help me blow off steam and feel better. _You_ offer me a black eye."

Kara couldn't hold back a burst of laughter. "I said stop it!"

"Well then start making sense!"

Kara groaned. "I was trying to help you... because I know... I know that I was part of the problem in the first place. And then you wigged out and left all your money... and I thought I had just made things worse. And when I followed you... you were dead." She had barely managed to voice the end of that statement.

Lee raised an eyebrow and shook his head. "So you thought that I killed myself _over you_? Just because you've been a selfish, inconsiderate, insubordinate pain-in-the-ass during the most difficult days of my life?"

Kara swallowed. "Tell me how you really feel Lee. Don't hold back."

Lee didn't hold back. "You're giving yourself too much credit, don't you think? Yes, it's pissed me off to no end to have to deal with everything that's happened since the Holocaust while you practically go out of your way to make things harder for me. Cutting me down when I could really use a little support. Mouthing off in front of the crew. Questioning orders. Undermining my authority. You've disappointed me Kara. When I joined this crew, I thought that of all people I could count on you. I thought that's what friends were for. Instead you've turned out to be the one person on this ship that I _can't_ count on. But did you really think that you were the central focus of my existence... and without you blowing sunshine up my ass, I have nothing left to live for? Get over yourself!"

Kara looked completely stunned. In a very quiet voice she said, "Seriously Lee...tell me how you feel. Don't hold back."

Lee stared at Kara's face. She really looked shaken and he felt a deep pang of guilt over what he'd just said. Yet, he also knew that it had all been true. He flopped into a chair and let his head fall back against the top cushion. Kara just stood immobile in place. They were both quiet for a while.

Kara finally broke the silence. "So... _that's_ all been building up for quite a while, hasn't it?"

"Yes," he said plainly.

"Feel better now?"

"Not really."

"Would it help if I said I'm sorry?"

Lee shrugged. "It wouldn't hurt."

Kara had to steady herself. She hugged her arms about herself and took a deep breath. "Lee, I know I let you down. I am sorry." In spite of her best efforts she started to tear up again. "When I found you that night... and I thought I was losing you... especially with the way things were between us, so messed up and all... I didn't know how the hell I was going to make it if you didn't. I'm sorry Lee. I'm sorry that I've been such a pain-in-the-ass. But I'm... I'm trying to do better. I really am."

Lee turned his head to look at her again. "I've heard that you aren't cracking jokes or smoking during morning briefing any more."

Kara cleared her throat. "Well... I can't expect to receive discipline from the squadron if I don't practice it."

"That sounds familiar," Lee said dryly.

"It should. You're the one who told it to me."

Lee sat forward, looking at her. Then he stood up with something obviously on his mind to ask her. Yet, he still hesitated before finally asking question that had been on his mind for several days. "Why didn't you ever visit me in sickbay? When you were laid up, I came by every chance I had, but you only came that first day when they _summoned_ you in. That was it. I had visits from the squadron, from the deck crew... hell, even Doctor Baltar came to see me... but not you. Why?"

"I couldn't," she said quietly.

"Too busy?" His voice betrayed a tinge of bitterness.

She shook her head, casting her eyes downward. "Too cowardly."

"Since when are you afraid of me?" he asked dubiously.

"Since I tried to help you... and I failed. Since I keep seeing it all, night after night... in my dreams and every time I walk into that room. I keep seeing you dead... knowing that I didn't help you."

Lee stepped closer to her again. "Kara... you saved my life." He couldn't help himself. He put his hands on her shoulders and pulled her closer, hugging her again. She hugged him back tightly, crying on his shoulder.

While still holding her close after she'd calmed down again, Lee asked her, "So... does this mean that I'm _not_ just the CAG?"

Kara started to laugh. She stepped back a little, wiping at the wet spot on his shoulder created by her tears. "No," she said. "You make a pretty good hankie too. Though you are a damn fine CAG. You're a better one than I am."

"Because I'm a big enough dipstick?"

Kara cracked up. "You misunderstood me," she said with a wink. "I didn't say _were_ a big one. I said the one you _have_ is big enough."

Lee gave a surprised chuckle. "Now that almost sounds like a proposition."

"Only if you're looking for a black eye."

Lee grinned, then mimicked her own voice back at her. "I'm trying to do better Lee. I really am."

Kara smirked. "Baby steps, Adama. You can't expect me to run before I've learned how to walk."

Lee snickered. "Looks more like the crawling stage to me."

"Hey, it's still progress." Kara was finally starting to feel much calmer and more at ease than she had in weeks. She had been so afraid of seeing Lee, so afraid of falling to pieces and not knowing what to say to him. But now that it had happened, she felt like the worst had finally passed. Somehow just being with Lee and talking to him again made her feel more like her old self. Things would never again be just like they were way back in the old days. Too much had happened. They had both changed too much. But even back then Lee had been her touchstone and it was a blessed comfort to her to know that he still was.

"So," she said, "any idea how much longer I'm going to have to keep doing your job?"

"I have three more sessions with Doctor Marsh before she clears me for duty."

"So, you think she will clear you?"

"Yes," Lee said confidently. "I'm not suicidal. So why wouldn't she?" When Kara hesitated on her answer, Lee rolled his eyes. "There isn't _anything_ I can say to convince you, is there?"

Kara answered thoughtfully, "To be honest Lee, I haven't really been sure what I believe. You are the strongest and most tenacious person I've ever known. Before that night, I would have said that you were the very last of any of us who would ever give up. But you were so stressed and the way you acted that night just didn't make sense. There was no sign of foul play and no evidence of anything but suicide, so I haven't known what to think. But since you woke up and insisted that you didn't do it, I've been going over it and over it in my mind trying to figure out just what could have happened in those few minutes while you were out of my sight. And the fact is Lee if you didn't do it, there is only one other way it could have happened... and it's not an easy option to accept... especially without any evidence."

"Go on," Lee told her, listening intently.

Kara explained her train of thought. "If you didn't do it... then you were attacked before you got into your rack. You still had your shoes and pants on."

"I was still wearing my shoes?"

"Yeah. If you had just wanted to go to sleep, you wouldn't have climbed up into your rack with your shoes on. So, that means that whoever attacked you had to lift you up into your rack afterwards. One person couldn't have done that alone. It would take at least two people. And the only way that two people could have attacked you, and hoisted you into your rack without disturbing Frosty and Stinger... is if it _was_ Frosty and Stinger."

Lee's face grew troubled. After considering her words for a few seconds he shook his head. "No, I can't believe that. There has to be another explanation."

In carefully measured tones Kara told him, "Lee, _they were both there._ No one else could have attacked you, lifted you into your rack, and straightened up the room within only a few short minutes, without being seen."

Lee looked away, clearly resisting the idea. He lowered his head, shaking it. "I can't believe they would do that. I know them, Kara. We _both_ know them."

Very quietly, Kara said, "We both knew Sharon too."

Lee lifted his head and looked at her, clearly upset. "You're telling me you think they're both Cylons?"

Kara winced. "Lee, I told you that I don't really know what to believe. No, I can't quite believe they're Cylons. I'm just saying that you can't really predict what's going on in someone's head."

Lee grimaced, still fighting to get his brain working around the possibility. "But then why did Stinger jump in and help save me? If he wanted me dead, why didn't he just stand back and let me die?"

Kara followed that train of thought. "Well, if Frosty is a Cylon he _may_ have acted alone. Even for a human he's pretty damn strong. If he's a Cylon, Frosty could have managed it by himself, though Stinger would probably have heard or seen _something... _and if he did, he might have just rolled over and gone back to sleep. Frosty's his partner. They're practically inseparable. Stinger wouldn't have thought at the time that anything was really wrong."

"That would mean he's been covering for Frosty since then," Lee said.

Kara nodded. "Yeah," she said glumly. "But Stinger just might do that. It would also explain why Stinger was so freaked that he had to go call his girlfriend in the middle of the night."

Lee shuddered. "I guess we won't know until I can remember. But I hope you're wrong Kara. I really do."

She gave him a sympathetic look. "Lee... if it wasn't one or both of them... then it had to be you. There's just no other way."

Lee sagged and dropped his head down again. "There's got to be," he whispered. "Damn it, I have to remember!"

"You will," Kara said gently. "In any case, we should have at least a partial answer by morning."

"Why's that?"

"Frosty's blood is being run through Doctor Baltar's hand-dandy Cylon detector," Kara explained.

Lee stared at Kara then actually cracked a slight smile and shook his head. "That's why Dad didn't want me returning to my own quarters yet. He wanted me to wait until after the test results are in. Why didn't he just tell me that?"

Kara shrugged. "Maybe he thought the test was a long shot. Or maybe telling you would have required a level of communication the two of you haven't mastered yet."

Lee nodded his head in reluctant agreement.


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

"Starbuck... wake up!"

Kara groaned and rolled toward wall. "Frak off," she mumbled.

"Hey come on," the annoying voice said again. "It's after reveille. Time to get up. They're paging you."

Kara refused to crack an eyelid. She'd had a late CAP the day before and then had spent over an hour talking to Lee in the briefing room. It felt like she'd only just barely fallen asleep and she wasn't ready to get up yet. Besides, she was still the acting-CAG. Lee hadn't been cleared for duty yet. So if she wanted the squadron to wait, they could just wait!

Something soft, vaguely fuzzy, and decidedly stinky fell onto her face. Kara jerked awake and yanked away the dirty sock that someone had just tossed at her head. She rolled over and cast a venomous eye on all the pilots in the room. "Whose is this?" she demanded to know, holding the smelly sock at arm's length. From the size alone, Kara knew it belonged to a man, and as her eyes scanned the laughing faces in the room, Helo appeared to be the most amused.

Knowing from the look on Kara's face that he'd been fingered, Helo laughed harder. "Hey that was a pretty good throw. Besides, it got you up!"

Kara chucked the sock back at Helo as hard as she could, not that a flying sock could really do much damage. "You dipstick," she snarled.

Helo caught the sock and grinned. "Hey, we had to get you up somehow."

"Why?" she grumbled. "What do you care if I'm late in taking attendance?"

"I don't, but I think the commander might get miffed if you keep him waiting."

Kara blinked hard to clear the gritty feeling from her eyes. "What?"

"You were paged to his quarters, Sleepyhead," Helo told her. "You and Apollo both."

"Frak," Kara muttered. She pushed herself to her feet. It suddenly dawned on her that Lee was nowhere in sight. "Where is Apollo?"

"Out of bed and gone running already," Hog Dog replied.

"Freakin' over-achiever," Kara grumbled.

As if on cue, Lee appeared at the hatch, still wearing his running clothes and perspiring. He saw Starbuck still obviously half-asleep. "You're not even dressed?" he asked.

Kara waved him off. "Go take another lap, then ask me if I care."

"We've been paged to the commander's quarters," Lee told her.

"So goes the rumor," she said in a half-yawn. She spotted her bundled clothes on the center table. All she had with her to put on was her flight suit. "I need to stop at my locker first," she told Lee. She eyed him up and down in his exercise shorts and damp tank top. "Looks like you do too."

"No can do," Lee said. "I called the Old Man from a phone down the hall to let him know I was _out of uniform_ and needed a few minutes to clean up. He insisted we both come down to his office immediately and specifically said we were _not_ to go back to our quarters first."

Suspicious, Kara asked, "Did he say why?"

"No," Lee said grimly. "But I have an idea, and I really hope I'm wrong."

"Great," Kara mumbled, dropping into a chair to pull her flight boots onto her bare feet.

"Need some socks Starbuck?" Hot Dog inquired, setting off a new wave of laughter in the room.

Kara frowned. "I'm still making up the flight schedules Kids," she said in a warning tone, though no one appeared to take her threats very seriously.

"So what do you think is going on Captain?" Helo asked.

"I'd rather not speculate Helo," Lee said. "Do me a favor everybody? Don't start playing guessing games or starting rumors all right? We'll know what's up soon enough." Everyone seemed agreeable.

Lee grabbed his sweatshirt from the foot of his borrowed rack and pulled it on while Kara finished securing her boots. She ran her fingers through her short blond hair to tame it down a little, then the two senior pilots headed off down the hall.

"Anybody wanna bet that Frosty is in some kind of deep doody?" Hot Dog asked his roommates.

"I wouldn't bet against that," Helo told them. Then to Hot Dog he said, "And did you actually just say 'doody'?"

"We're not going to like this are we?" Kara said under her breath as she and Lee wound their way through the labyrinthine hallways of Galactica.

"I doubt it," Lee said.

Kara glanced over her shoulder. A marine was doing a not-so-subtle job of following them around. Lee and Kara turned another corner, and Kara looked back again. The marine was still there.

"Kara what are you doing?" Lee asked.

"We're being followed Lee," she told him, on the verge of turning around and confronting the trailing marine.

Lee grinned and grabbed her arm to keep her moving forward. "No, _I'm_ being followed. That's my shadow."

"Your what?"

"'Shadow' sounds better than 'babysitter'. Dad arranged it yesterday when I got back. Seems he didn't quite trust me on my own."

Kara jerked her thumb back over her shoulder. "He's been following you since yesterday?"

Lee grinned smugly. "They're trading off shifts. This one stepped in this morning, just in time to chase after me when I went running."

Kara giggled. "No wonder he looks a little tuckered. Hey wait... you mean to tell me there was somebody lurking around last night when we were in the briefing room?"

"He wasn't in the room with us. I made him wait outside."

"Great. He probably had his ear to the door listening for any juicy gossip."

"Not gossip. Just listening for warning signs of bloodshed."

They turned another corner, and of course the marine followed. "This is annoying," Kara commented, glancing back again.

"Just ignore him," Lee advised her.

"Tell him to get lost," Kara countered.

Over his shoulder, Lee said, "Get lost." The marine just waved and continued to follow them. "Does that help?" Lee asked Kara.

Kara frowned in irritation. "It's too bad I don't have my running shoes on. We could give him a nice little chase. I'd even lay 5-to-1 odds that you went easy on him earlier." When Lee shrugged she gloated, "Hah! I knew it."

Lee laughed. "He didn't pick this assignment. It's not his fault."

"You are such a pushover."

"It's called empathy. You should try it sometime."

When they reached the commander's quarters the marine took up a position outside the door while Lee and Kara proceeded inside. The commander stood up from his desk when he saw them and motioned for Lee to close the hatch. Then he picked up the phone receiver.

"This is the commander. Put me through to the Master-At-Arms." Adama beckoned Lee and Kara to have a seat on the couch while he was on the phone. "Sergeant, Apollo and Starbuck are accounted for and secured. Go ahead and move in. Keep me informed."

Lee and Kara exchanged wary glances. Neither of them had taken a seat. They both just stood waiting for an explanation.

Adama hung up the phone and motioned again for his guests to be seated. "Sit down kids." He gave them both a quick visual appraisal. He already knew that Lee had cut short his morning run and Kara looked like she had just rolled out of bed. "Have either of you had a chance to eat yet this morning?"

"No Sir," Lee replied. "Not yet."

"Sorry for the abrupt summons," the commander said. "But we weren't sure where the two of you were, and we needed to be sure that neither of you wandered back to quarters before the situation was under control."

"What situation Commander?"

Adama had brought a file folder over from his desk and held it up for Lee and Kara to see. "Doctor Baltar turned up a positive result on Lieutenant Mullins' blood test. He's a Cylon." Lee winced at the news. Kara's expression remained largely unchanged. "Sergeant Hadrian is moving in now with a marine squad to arrest him and take him to the brig."

Lee's troubled eyes met his father's. "May I see the report Sir?" Lee asked.

Adama handed Lee the folder. He watched his son scanning through the pages. He had known Lee would take this news hard.

Lee finally closed up the folder and handed it off to Kara. Rubbing his forehead, Lee grimaced. "Twice. That's twice. One of my own people. Someone I trusted... right under my nose."

Kara didn't bother reading through the report. She only noted the line in boldface print that said, "Positive." She set the folder on the table. "Well... at least it explains a few things," she said quietly. She rested her hand on Lee's back. "We know who attacked you now."

"And we know why," Adama added. "Although, Frosty was certainly a lot sneakier about it than Boomer was."

Lee looked at his father. "Why didn't you just tell me yesterday that you were testing his blood?"

Adama reluctantly admitted, "Because I didn't expect it to pan out. I really didn't. Doing the test at all was more of an afterthought, just to be thorough."

Kara suddenly perked up and clapped her hands together. "On the bright side... does this mean I can hand off all the paperwork back to Lee now? We know he's not suicidal and Doctor Cottle did clear him for light duty."

Lee slowly turned his head toward her with a look of amazement on his face. "Are you kidding me? _That's_ what is going through your warped little mind right now? Handing off the paperwork?"

Kara shrugged. "I _really_ hate paperwork."

"When did you ever try it?"

"I've been the one keeping up all the records while you've lounging on your ass!"

"Oh really? I've seen the whiteboard in the briefing room Kara. If that's any indicator of your record-keeping, I'll be spending the next 6 months trying to sort out the piles of illegible scrawl."

Without missing a beat, Kara said, "Then the sooner you get started, the better."

The commander cleared his throat loudly. "While I know you kids are having fun, the point is rather moot. Lee hasn't been cleared for duty yet by Doctor Marsh."

Lee looked surprised by his father's statement. "But... wait a minute... you know now that I didn't try to kill myself." When his father didn't readily agree, Lee prodded him further. "You do know that, don't you?"

"I believe that Lieutenant Mullins was probably responsible for what happened," Adama said.

"Probably?"

"But even so," the commander went on, "the terms for your return to duty were clearly set. Doctor Marsh is now a permanent member of this crew and her medical judgment is just as binding as Doctor Cottle's."

"You're the one who set the terms," Lee argued. "You can change them."

"Lee it's only a few more days," Adama responded. "Suicide or assault... the fact is that it was traumatic enough for you that you still can't even remember it. Can you?"

"No," Lee admitted reluctantly with his anger boiling visibly just beneath the surface.

Adama nodded. "Then Kara is just going to have to wait for Doctor Marsh's approval before she hands off the pile of illegible scrawl."

Kara was just about to defend her penmanship when the phone rang. The commander moved quickly to answer it. His face expressed immediate concern over what he was being told.

Kara leaned toward Lee and whispered conspiratorially, "You do realize that I won't even _touch_ a piece of paper for the next three days, right?"

Watching his father's face, Lee muttered back to Kara, "Boy, you are definitely still in the crawling stage. Now shush up for a second. Something's up."

"Don't try to shush me," she protested.

Ignoring her, Lee stood up just as the commander hung up the phone. "What's going on? Is there a problem with the prisoner?"

"No," Adama replied. "That was Gaeta. There's been some kind of accident out in the fleet. I have to get to CIC. Starbuck, I need you to suit up and get all Raptors ready to fly in case we need to initiate an emergency evacuation."

Kara jumped to her feet. "Yes Sir. At least I do have that outfit available." She hurried off to do her job.

Lee watched her rush off then looked back at his father. He told the commander, "Sir, if this is an emergency, I can fly."

Adama shook his head, strolling for the door. "You haven't been cleared for flight," the commander said sternly.

"But if there are lives at stake..."

"No Lee," Adama interrupted his son. "A medical officer's decision can not be over-ruled. Not even by me. You'll have to sit this one out. Now please just stay here until we have confirmation that Frosty has been secured."

Lee gritted his teeth and watched his father's back until the commander was out the hatch and on his way to the CIC. Lee paced around a few times, feeling like a caged animal. "Just stay here," he mumbled moodily. He stopped pacing. "Like hell."

"What have we got?" the commander asked as he emerged onto the CIC.

Colonel Tigh reported, "The cargo freighter Dorian's Mistress reported a small electrical fire about 20 minutes ago. Apparently it was wider-spread than they originally anticipated and they temporarily lost helm control and collided with the Tantalus, a small passenger liner. Both ships are reporting casualties, and the Tantalus has lost their life support control systems. We've already directed all other fleet vessels away from the collision site."

The commander asked, "You said the Mistress _temporarily_ lost helm control? Do either of the vessels have helm control at this time?"

"Yes," the XO confirmed. "They were able to move off from each other and stabilize their positions."

"Good," Adama said. "Bring the rest of the fleet to full stop until further notice."

Tigh shook his head. "This was bound to happen eventually. With this many ships huddled together, unaccustomed to flying in formation, a collision was inevitable."

Lee walked onto the upper level of the CIC and observed the bustle of activity going on. It was the first time since he was attacked that Lee had been back to the CIC and it felt oddly comforting. He recalled how he had so looked forward to finishing that last shift as acting-XO and leaving the watch in CIC behind, but apparently he'd become more accustomed to the surroundings than he'd thought. Several of the crew who saw him there smiled at him briefly as they went about their jobs.

Lee watched his father with a deep sense of admiration for how easily the commander directed the activities around him. William Adama was in his element here. There was no denying that. As a father, he had many shortcomings, but as a battlestar commander he was a natural. _This_ was the purpose for which William had been born.

A panicked transmission came in over the speakers from the Tantalus. They had failed to get their backup life support controls online. The ship would need to be evacuated, but with power failing they could not launch their lifeboats. Adama ordered all Raptors to launch immediately. With soft-seal capability, the Raptors could act as lifeboats.

"That won't be enough," Colonel Tigh said quietly. "Three Raptors, each carrying ten people at a time. If we're lucky the people on the Tantalus have about an hour before their breathable oxygen runs out and the temperatures will be dropping fast."

"We have three luxury liners in the fleet that have lifeboats with soft-seal capability," Lee announced when he stepped out onto the center deck of the CIC. The commander and the XO both turned around in surprise when they heard his voice. "Cloud Nine, Rising Star, and the Intersun Liner. The Tantalus is much smaller than the other three. Any _one_ of those big ships would have more than enough capacity in their lifeboats for everyone on the Tantalus."

The commander turned to face Petty Officer Dualla at her station. "Which of those three ships is the closest?"

Dualla checked her console. "The Rising Star Commander," she replied.

"Contact the pilot on the Rising Star," Adama instructed. "Tell him we need lifeboats launched immediately with sufficient capacity for the population of the Tantalus."

"That would be 385 souls Sir," Dualla informed.

Adama nodded. "Tell him if they don't have room to accommodate those people on the Rising Star they can be shuttled here to Galactica."

"Yes Sir." Dualla turned her focus upon contacting the crew of the luxury liner Rising Star.

"Colonel," the commander said, "send a call for off-duty volunteers to assist with the boarding of 385 passengers."

"Yes Sir," Tigh replied, reaching for the broadcast mike.

As the call went out the crew, the commander turned to face Lee. With a mild smile on his face he said, "You're not cleared for duty Captain. You shouldn't be here."

Lee just matched his father's partial smile with one of his own. "Before I go find a corner to twiddle my thumbs in, might I make another suggestion Sir?"

The commander inclined his head. "Go ahead."

"The museum deck on the starboard flight pod could be used as a gathering area for the passengers. It's not very luxurious, but there's ample room to keep everyone accounted for in one place until other arrangements can be made throughout the fleet or until the _Tantalus_ can be repaired. And we should double the CAP. This would be a hell of a time for a Cylon scout party to spot us before we spot them."

Adama nodded. They definitely couldn't allow nearly 400 uncleared civilians to freely roam the ship. One Cylon agent had already succeeded in killing several crewmembers after boarding Galactica with a group of civilians and slipping off on his own. "That was _two_ suggestions Captain," Adama pointed out. Then he turned again to his XO. "Colonel, contact Starbuck and tell her to double the CAP. We don't want any surprises right now." Looking again at Lee, he said, "And unless your heart is set on twiddling your thumbs, you can take charge of the passenger embarkation. Make sure everyone remains contained and accounted for."

Lee was surprised. "Am I cleared for that Sir?" he asked sarcastically.

"I won't tell if you won't, but I still expect you to show up for your appointment with Doctor Marsh."

Lee gave a mild laugh. "Yes Sir. Commander... may I make a request as well?"

"What is it Captain?"

"Can you tell my shadow to get lost Sir?"

Adama grinned. He looked over Lee's shoulder at the marine who was standing attentively nearby. "Sergeant, you are reassigned to the embarkation detail under Captain Adama's command."

"Yes Sir," the marine acknowledged smartly.

"Thank you Sir," Lee said and saluted.

"And Captain?"

"Yes Commander?"

"That was good thinking on the lifeboats."

"We'll see Sir," Lee said. "The passengers aren't safe yet."

William Adama watched Lee walking away with a surge of pride. Lee probably didn't realize it, Adama thought, but the kid was a natural for command. He still had a lot to learn, but his instincts were good. Moreover, Lee had already mastered one subject that William still struggled with. William tended to focus his thoughts and energies on commanding the Galactica alone, but Lee's concerns and attention to detail extended out beyond Galactica's hull to include the entire fleet. His knowledge of the lifeboats' capabilities was something that William had not possessed, yet in such an emergency as this, that bit of information would probably save lives. Tigh had been right earlier when he'd said that an intra-fleet collision was bound to happen one day, yet contingencies for handling such an event had not been thought through... except apparently by Lee. No doubt about it. Lee would make a damn fine commander one day.

* * *

"I'm telling you, that bastard is lying," Lieutenant Shawn Mullins insisted again. "I am not a Cylon!" 

Sergeant Hadrian shook her head derisively. "You know, you Cylon agents really need to come up with a new song. That particular one is getting very old."

"Frak you," Mullins swore bitterly.

She laughed. "Not even if you were human. Now, I will ask you again. Tell me about the assault on Captain Adama. If you cooperate, you may just end up on the Astral Queen instead of being blown out of an airlock."

At the mention of the Astral Queen, Frosty flinched, but he maintained his silence. He deliberately turned his head away from his interrogator.

Sergeant Hadrian persisted in spite of Mullins' silence. "What about Ensign Karo?"

With the mention of his partner's name, Frosty looked back at the master-at-arms. "Stinger didn't do anything," he said intently.

"Really?" Sergeant Hadrian inquired. "He wasn't your accomplice?"

"He's just a kid!"

"That's not what I asked."

"He didn't do anything! It's just like we told you last week! We were asleep! We were both asleep and we didn't see or hear anything! Captain Adama did it to himself."

With a laser-intense look Hadrian told the prisoner, "But it's not just like last week. We now know you're a frakking, lying Cylon agent. We know that you attacked Captain Adama. You lied about all that. Why should we believe what you said before about Stinger? Was he your accomplice or has he just been covering for your crime?"

Frosty adamantly stuck to his story. "He's just a heavy sleeper, that's all. And Doctor Baltar is lying! I am not a Cylon!"

* * *

In all of the hustle of the rescue efforts for the Tantalus and Dorian's Mistress, Lee ended up almost losing track of time and was five minutes late for his appointment with Doctor Marsh. When he stepped into her office she wagged a finger at him and pointed to her watch. 

"I know, I'm sorry," he said. "It's been a busy day."

"Oh really?" she asked suspiciously. "Now why would that be? I know it couldn't have anything to do with the collision or all of the passengers that had to be evacuated and brought here, because _you_ haven't been cleared for duty yet." She gave him a knowing look.

He sat down with a secretive grin. "Nope, I sure haven't."

"Mm hmm." She shook her head and readied the voice recorder for another session.

"Have you heard the news yet about Frosty?" Lee asked.

Doctor Marsh nodded. "Oh yes. It was quite the subject of discussion around the mess this morning. Any thoughts on the subject you'd like to share? You were rather upset yesterday about the idea that something like this could happen."

"I know," Lee said. "But, even when my father told me that Frosty was under some kind of suspicion, I never... I never even considered that he might be a Cylon. I'm really not sure if this is better or worse than what I was afraid of. It answers a lot of questions and at least I don't have to wonder why he would betray me... but it still makes me wonder who the hell I can trust. I've flown with him. I've trusted him to watch my back. I've slept in the same room with him for months. And all along he was one of the enemy."

"Do you feel unsafe then in some way now?"

Lee considered the question. "Now? No, not really," he replied. "I mean, I've known for several days that somebody walking around this ship wanted me dead. Now I know who and he's locked up. But it does make me question my judgment about people. I used to think I was a pretty good judge of character. Apparently I'm not."

"Well, from what I've learned about the previous Cylon agent, Sharon Valerii, it appears that these agents may not even be aware themselves that they are Cylons. In a way, it's not unlike Multiple Personality Disorder. The person... the _human_ personality that you knew... really was separate and distinct from the Cylon personality. The same may be true for Frosty. His human persona may indeed have been everything that you judged him to be."

Lee thought about what she said, but frowned dispiritedly. "Somehow that doesn't make me feel any better."

"I'm just trying to help you understand that you don't need to beat yourself up over this."

The corner of Lee's mouth twitched upward slightly. "My over-developed sense of responsibility at work again?"

"Bingo." In a very calculated tone she told him, "There is no cause to blame the victim."

Lee cringed. "I _hate_ the word 'victim.'"

"There's no _shame_ in what happened to you either," she said very pointedly.

"I'm not ashamed."

"Are you sure? Not even just a _little_ embarrassed? Come on Lee. Be honest. You're accustomed to kicking ass, not to having your ass kicked."

"It pisses me off," Lee admitted.

"As well it should. But who are you really angry at? Frosty? Or yourself?"

Lee pondered the question silently for a long time. Doctor Marsh finally gave him an assist.

"Does it bother you to think of yourself being overpowered?" When his eyes flashed directly toward hers, she knew she was on the right track. "Do you wonder whether or not you were able to fight back? Do you ask yourself if you should have fought harder?"

Lee's eyes almost looked haunted for a few seconds before he admitted in a whisper, "Yes." Lee's hands actually began trembling and he clasped them together to keep them still. "Frak," he muttered.

The doctor got up from her chair and sat down next to Lee, taking his hands in hers. She didn't say anything. They just waited silently for the trembling to pass.

Lee took a few deep breaths and gradually he felt calmer again. He finally asked quietly, "This is why I can't remember, isn't it? This is what I don't want to remember."

"Probably," she agreed. "And the fact that it was at the hands of someone you trusted makes it more difficult. Lee, this reaction is perfectly normal, but you need to keep perspective and put the blame where it belongs."

Lee nodded solemnly. "Frosty."

"Yes," Doctor Marsh said firmly. She gave his hands another squeeze.

Lee's expression changed then to one of curiosity. "So... you really do believe that I did not try to kill myself?"

She smiled at him. "I don't think we're dealing with higher math here Lee. The addition is pretty simple." She patted him on the shoulder and returned to her chair.

"Then... is there any reason why your recommendation to my father has to wait another few days?"

"Getting impatient are we?"

"Well... what is the point in delaying if you already know I'm not suicidal? And if you have _other_ doubts about my mental state, then I'd like to know what they are."

"All right, you asked for it," she said, sitting forward in her chair. "When I make my report to your father, it isn't just about whether or not I believe that you attempted suicide on that particular night. I don't believe that you did. In fact, I was inclined by the end of our very first session to believe that you were not suicidal. But my recommendation also concerns whether or not I believe that you could be at risk if you are returned to active duty, and whether or not that risk is sufficient to withhold you from active duty.

"The fact is Lee... you have issues, and I'm not just referring to the recent attack, although that is one of them. You are still dealing with a number of very traumatic events and some very painful losses, dating back not just to the Holocaust but all the way back to the death of your brother. You have exhibited signs of Acute Stress Disorder on multiple occasions, such as your current memory loss, as well as the flashbacks that you admitted to having after blowing up the Olympic Carrier.

"And let's face it; your support system is pretty paltry. You have a lot of difficulties relating to your father, to the extent that I believe you would not be inclined to go to him for help if you needed it, and your best friend has proven quite unreliable and unsympathetic."

Lee interjected at that point to say, "Kara and I talked last night. We're uh... I think we're headed in a better direction now."

"I don't doubt that she cares about you Lee, and everybody can use a friend to laugh with. But do you really think things will be different when the going gets rough again? Will she support you now, even though she didn't before? Do you truly trust her to be reliable from now on?"

Lee was hesitant. "I think... she'll try."

"In other words, you have still have doubts. And let's face facts. Life isn't going to be getting easier. I think we both know that it's going to be rough waters for the foreseeable future. Tough times are still ahead. There will be times when you need help. So be honest. Will you ask for help from your father? Will you get it from Kara? Or are you just going to try to tough it out on your own again?"

Lee thought about the question for a while. He had to finally admit, "I don't know."

Doctor Marsh nodded and gave him a sympathetic smile. "On the flip side, you have a very resilient spirit, and a good positive self-image. And considering all that's happened you're doing pretty well."

Lee seemed surprised to hear that. "I am? I was just about convinced you were planning to ground me for life."

"Well, not _yet_," she told him. "I don't think you are currently suicidal, but I think that you are at risk Lee. Now if I thought there was a decent chance that the Cylons had given up and would just let us go on our merry way, I wouldn't worry about you much. You'd cope with what's already happened, and you'd be fine. But that's a fool's dream, and we both know it. So you are only going to have to deal with more and more as time goes on. That is why I think you could be at risk.

"You need to take more time to grieve than you've allowed yourself. And you _really_ need to expand your support system and find somebody reliable that you can really lean on when you need to... because _you will need to_. You are in a very high-stress, high-risk job, and over time that will take a toll on you. So while I don't currently believe that you are a danger to yourself or to others... except to Cylons of course... if you don't find a way to stop trying to carry the weight of the world by yourself while the lugging the past along with you... one of these days it will break you."

Lee nodded very thoughtfully. "Okay. I have issues. I can accept that. But are they serious enough _now_ to prevent me from returning to duty in two more days?"

Doctor Marsh sat back and laughed. "Right back to the point huh? All right, the answer is no. I will be recommending that you are fit for duty."

A smile broke across Lee's face. "And these issues of mine... are they really likely to change significantly for the better within the next two days?"

"Doubt it," she said bluntly.

"Then, is there really a point in waiting?"

Doctor Marsh shook her head in amusement. "Why are you so anxious Lee?"

"We had an emergency in the fleet today," Lee explained. "Hundreds of lives were at risk and I was told I would have to just sit it out instead of getting out there to help. The CAP has been doubled because the fleet is at added risk so long as we have to sit dead in space while two ships are under repair. We have a critical shortage of pilots who are now all working overtime on the extended CAP... and this morning we just lost another one. Frosty. My team needs me... and your report is the only thing holding me back."

"What about your hand?" Doctor Marsh observed.

"I think I can persuade Doctor Cottle, given the emergency," Lee said. "And even if he doesn't budge and won't clear me for flight, I can at least help out with shipboard duties. I can do _something_ to help."

"_Officially_, you mean." It was clear from the doctor's grin that she knew darn well Lee had been working the crisis that morning even without proper medical approval. She reached over and switched off the voice recorder. "You know, when I interviewed for this position with your father, one of the questions he asked me was why I would want to come back out of retirement. I did my time. 20 years to the military. 25 more years as a civilian. I earned my time off. Why come back? It was because it killed me to have a war raging all around me, while I could do nothing but sit idle and watch."

Lee caught the meaning of what she was telling him, and looked at her hopefully. "Then... you understand?"

She nodded. "Yes I do."

"And?"

"And... I will submit my recommendation to your father by COB today."

Lee's face broke into a broad smile. "Thank you."

She wagged a finger at him. "You still have issues though, Junior. My work with you is far from over."

* * *

"Good evening Doctor," Commander Adama said he stepped into Gaius Baltar's lab on C deck. As usual, the tables were covered end to end with trays of blood samples while the doctor's computer cranked away on the latest test subject. The doctor himself was sitting on his rotating stool with a daydreaming expression on his face that looked somewhat perverse. He jumped a bit at the commander's gruff voice. 

"Ah, good evening Commander. I assume you came for this." He jumped up from his stool and grabbed a file folder from the counter behind him.

"Ensign Karo's test result?" the commander asked.

"Yes," Baltar confirmed. "But as I already told you over the phone, the result is negative. Ensign Louis Karo is not a Cylon."

"That's good to hear," Adama said. "But I'll still need to hang on to this while the investigation is under way."

"Yes of course," Baltar said. "Has the uh... _Cylon_... told you anything of value yet?"

Adama looked at the doctor sternly. "You know that details of the investigation have to remain sealed," he said.

Baltar appeared slightly miffed. "I am not only the President's advisor on the Cylons and their technologies, but also the _Vice President_. Any information provided by a Cylon therefore does fall under my realm of authority."

Adama looked at Baltar's defiant face with a tinge of uneasiness. Colonel Tigh had been right. The ship's resident mad scientist was indeed growing increasingly uppity since being elected to the Vice Presidency. "Very well," he said. "The answer is no, he hasn't told us anything of any value. He continues to stick to his original story about sleeping right through Captain Adama's attack. And he insists that your test results are faked."

"He says he's not a Cylon?" Baltar asked derisively.

"He does."

"Well isn't that a surprise?" Baltar said sarcastically. "Where have we heard that before, hmm? Let's see. Oh yes, the first time was from Aaron Doral. You remember him? He was the Cylon we left behind at Ragnar Anchorage whose twin brother showed up here on C deck a few weeks later and tried to blow us all to hell. Then, of course, was Sharon Valerii. I'm sure you remember her and there's no need for reminiscing on that one. And now we hear it from Lieutenant Mullins, the only person on this ship who had a clear opportunity that night to murder your son. Isn't that a shock?"

Adama showed no amusement whatsoever for the Doctor's ramblings. "Frosty did make one odd comment about you."

"Only one?"

"He said something to the effect that you deceived him."

"I deceived him? What the hell does that mean?"

"I don't know Doctor. Any guesses?"

Baltar made an exaggerated show of pondering the question. "Let's see. I deceived him..." He snapped his fingers. "Of course. I remember now. I beat him in a card game a little over a week ago with nothing more than a pair of deuces. The man really is a lousy card player. He falls for a bluff every time. I'm sure Lieutenant Thrace can vouch for that."

Baltar impatiently shook his head. "Commander really, you didn't expect that the man was going to _thank_ me for uncovering him, did you? Naturally he is going to say things in order to discredit both me and the test results. But you're not going to buy into any of that nonsense are you? Surely you wouldn't give any credence to the enemy agent who attempted to assassinate your son?"

"Mullins will get what's coming to him," Adama said darkly. "I can assure you of that."

"I have no doubt," Baltar said. He held up both hands as if in prayer. "Let justice be done."

"Good night Doctor," the commander said. He turned and left the lab.

Baltar grinned smugly and returned to his chair. A half-dreaming, half-leering expression came over his face again. "Now then," he said, "where were we?"


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

"What a day," William breathed as he dropped into his desk chair and slipped off his glasses. He rubbed his eyes and let out a tired sigh. It felt as though it should be getting on toward bed time, but it was still only early evening and the day's events were not resolved yet. First, another pilot was revealed as a Cylon agent. In spite of intense questioning throughout the day, however, Lieutenant Mullins had refused to admit to any wrong doing. Incriminated by his blood test alone, Frosty could not yet be tied to any criminal activities: no sabotage, no espionage, not even the presumed assault on Lee.

Then there was the collision between two civilian ships to deal with. An emergency evacuation for nearly 400 people had been initiated involving hundreds of crewmembers from both the Galactica and the Rising Star. On the bright side, the evacuation was successfully completed before oxygen and environmental conditions on the Tantalus had reached critical stages. On the down side, the combined casualties from both civilian vessels numbered 14 people as dead and another 43 as seriously injured. Dozens more received minor injuries. The Galactica's understaffed and overworked crew was now playing host to hundreds of displaced civilians while Chief Tyrol led an engineering crew in an urgent effort to repair the two damaged vessels. The Air Group was working overtime to extend the eyes and ears of the fleet while all ships remained at full stop. It was hoped that the Tantalus could at least be made livable again by morning and the passengers could be transferred back to their prior accommodations.

William allowed himself a short laugh over the report he'd heard earlier that some passengers from the Tantalus were actually complaining about the meager nature of their accommodations on the Galactica. It was true that they were being kept in what amounted to a large holding cell on the unused "museum" deck of the Galactica's starboard flight pod, but those accommodations were never intended to be long-term. One marine had actually gotten into a shouting match with a particularly unhappy passenger over whether or not the Galactica's crew was showing sufficient hospitality. Lee had been the one to intervene and settle the situation by explaining that the Galactica's staff was barely managing to cover their mission-critical duties, but were still volunteering their rest periods to do whatever they could to accommodate the displaced civilians. The passenger had been petulant at first, demanding to speak to someone in authority. Lee, who was still out of uniform, identified himself as the CAG and explained that he was technically violating regulations by tending to the passengers due to the fact he was still on medical leave, having only recovered from a near-fatal coma ten days earlier. That had been sufficient to the shame the obstinate passenger into abandoning the confrontation and going to sulk in a corner instead.

Lee's frustration had been obvious that morning when William had told him to just stay put instead of launching with the rest of the pilots in response to the emergency. William hadn't even really been surprised to see Lee turn up at the CIC a short while later to offer his ideas. What William should have done was send him right back to quarters, but Lee's input had saved lives and William had known that Lee would go absolutely batty if wasn't at least allowed to assist the refugees from the Tantalus. He also knew that Lee's natural talent for organization would be extremely helpful with managing the sudden large influx of passengers. The hasty rescue operation could have resulted in a chaotic mob of confused civilians huddling in mission critical areas or wandering the halls and causing additional problems during a state of emergency. Instead, Lee had directed an orderly transfer of the passengers from each lifeboat to the museum deck with little or no confusion and by noon they had the population of the Tantalus fully accounted for, with food and first-aid being provided.

William wanted to commend Lee for the job he'd done that day, but he wasn't sure how Lee would take it. Lee had been content to be allowed to participate in some way, but William knew Lee's heart had been out there with his pilots the whole time. The next few days would be even more frustrating for Lee and William knew exactly how Lee felt. During his own recuperation, William had been chomping at the bit to get medical clearance and return to duty. Lee had actually already been medically cleared, and was now only waiting on his psychological evaluation. William suspected that Doctor Marsh would declare Lee fit for duty, but he was selfishly pleased that it would not occur for another couple of days. By then, the crisis with the Tantalus and Dorian's Mistress should be resolved, and Lee could resume his duties under a state of normal operations. Until then, William would have the peace of mind knowing that Lee was safe. Lee would be onboard Galactica, doing nothing more dangerous than appeasing spoiled passengers, while completing his counseling sessions.

William's eyes fell upon the wall of his quarters where a shelf of books used to be. That shelf had been knocked from the wall, along with everything on it, when Lee had thrown a chair across the room in a burst of rage unlike anything that William had ever seen from Lee before. It had been a shocking and frightening moment for William to see that kind of explosive reaction from his usually tightly-controlled son. It now appeared highly likely that Lee had not actually left his father's quarters after their heated argument intending to kill himself later, but William still believed that Lee's actions constituted a cry for help in the only way that Lee knew how.

William felt a knot form deep in his gut when he thought back upon that night two weeks ago. He remembered the ice cold horror running through his body when Saul had told him that Lee had attempted suicide. He had clutched at an old photograph, lamenting the last conversation he'd had with Lee, cursing his failure as a father, and agonizing over the realization that Lee would go to his grave believing that his father hated him. Whether by suicide or homicide, William knew that his terrible fears had damn near come true.

He stood up from his chair and retrieved from a side table the same photograph that he had held onto so tightly that night when he'd feared that his eldest son had chosen to die. Lee was so young in the photograph, smiling in the arms of his beautiful mother with his younger brother beside him. William remembered all too vividly his shocked disbelief that his happy little boy had reached a point of such utter despair without William even noticing it. Then he recalled that he had indeed seen Lee's despondency that afternoon... he just hadn't done anything about it.

"Gods Caroline," William said quietly to the woman in the photograph. "How could I have screwed up so badly? He came to me for help and I slapped him across the face for it. Even if Lee wasn't exactly suicidal, he was still hurting... and I saw that... and I still turned my back on him. And then I nearly lost him."

William shuddered. These thoughts of what had almost happened were just too damn frightening. He sat down in the chair and let his head fall back against the top cushion. "I think I know what you would tell me though," he said. "You would remind me that Lee is alive... he's getting stronger every day... and at least for a little while longer, he's even safe! Well, he's as safe as anyone can possibly be these days. I have an opportunity now to mend some of the damage that I've done. Before he has to jump back into the chaos full throttle, I'll find the time to sit down with him and... finally talk about some of those subjects I know we've been avoiding... like you for instance. Sweetheart, I'm so sorry that I've never even tried to talk with him about you. It's not because I haven't thought about you... you know that. I've just been too afraid. If we talk about you, we'll probably end up talking about the divorce... and Gods know where that might lead. I know, I know... I should have had a frank talk with the boys about our divorce a long time ago. I know that you did. Hell, I always left all the tough talks to you. I even let you talk to the boys about sex."

He shook his head in disgust. "I really have been one sorry excuse for a father, haven't I? Well, you're right. Lee is alive. And even though he's a grown man... I can still be a father to him."

Just as soon as the situation with the Tantalus was resolved... hopefully by midday tomorrow... he would sit down with Lee and have that talk. It would be rough, undoubtedly, but Doctor Marsh was right. It wasn't the easy things that Lee was struggling with. It was with the painful issues that he needed help.

* * *

Doctor Cottle rolled his eyes when he saw Captain Adama approaching him again. He held up a hand to ward off the argument that he knew was coming. "What's the rush?" the doctor inquired sourly. 

Lee cocked his head quizzically. "What's the rush? Doc, look around. There are nearly four-hundred people here who will need to be transferred back to the Tantalus as soon as the repairs are completed."

Cottle didn't need to look around the museum deck. He knew damn well there were hundreds of people gathered there. He'd been spending darn near his entire day circulating through that crowd and administering first aid. "Thank you for stating the obvious Captain, but what's your point?"

"The fleet will be sitting dead in space until the lifeboats have completed the transfers. That means the Air Group will be flying double-shifts around the clock. We have barely enough pilots to cover standard shifts. My team needs me _now_, and I _can_ fly!"

"Your hand..." the doctor started to say.

Lee interrupted, "... is a little sore, but it's up to the job."

Cottle groaned in frustration. Apollo had been trying to approach this subject with the doctor all afternoon, ever since Doctor Marsh apparently agreed to clear him for duty. Cottle had been able to put the discussion off a few times already due to the attention that the refugees needed, but apparently Apollo's reputation for tenacity was well founded. The captain was obviously not going to give up until he had an answer.

With a grumpy expression he extended his hand toward Apollo. "Squeeze my hand," he said. With his bandaged left hand, Apollo grabbed the doctor's hand and squeezed, hard. Cottle winced. After a few seconds he tried to pull his hand away but Apollo held on. "All right, all right. That's enough." Apollo let go and Cottle shook out his own hand. "That didn't hurt?" he asked the CAG.

"You tell me," Apollo grinned.

Doctor Cottle groaned. "All right. I will clear you for flight. But... you keep in mind I'm only agreeing to do it at this point because we are in a state of near emergency and desperately short on pilots. The fact is that I've already had to put two of your people on stims. Your hand may be questionable, but you're well rested so overall you won't be any more impaired in the cockpit than anyone else right now."

"Which two are on stims?"

"Morgan and Orr. Now if you're going to go suit up, I suggest that you send at least one of those two back to their racks."

Lee nodded, smiling. "I will. Thanks Doc."

* * *

Adama signed the next report and handed it back to PO Dualla. She promptly handed him yet another. As his eyes scanned over page, he asked her, "Any update from the repair crews?" 

"Repairs are completed on Dorian's Mistress," Dualla replied. "Our technicians there will be transferring to the Tantalus shortly to boost those repair crews. And... we've had another offer of assistance from the Astral Queen."

Adama shook his head. Since news of the collision had circulated through the fleet, Tom Zarek had been calling periodically, volunteering work crews from the Astral Queen to assist with the repairs on the Tantalus. "Tell Mr. Zarek _again_ that his offer is appreciated," the commander instructed Dee, his voice tinged with sarcasm. "But Galactica's crew does not require assistance from his convicts."

"Yes Sir," Dee replied, suppressing a smile. She received back the latest signed page from the commander and handed off the final item in her hands. It was a report folder marked on the front with the words, "Eyes Only – Commander Adama." The commander flipped the folder open and began reading, his face registering instant surprise.

"What is this? When did this come in?" the commander asked.

"It was submitted by Doctor Marsh about an hour ago," Dualla said. She quickly added, "I didn't read it, Sir."

"What the –," he said. As realization sunk in, Adama's expression grew more stunned. "Has Captain Adama seen this?" he asked Dee suddenly.

"I don't think so Sir," Dualla replied. "It's marked for your eyes only. But if it pertains to him... which of course I wouldn't know... I assume he knows what it says or he wouldn't have already resumed his duties."

"He what? What do you mean he's resumed his duties?"

PO Dualla shifted uncomfortably. "Um... he showed up in CIC about 20 minutes ago, dressed in his flight suit and reported to the Officer of the Watch that he had resumed command of the Air Group and would be launching to join the squadron in flight as soon as his viper was ready. We... we all assumed you knew."

The commander just started blankly at Dualla for several seconds. Then he dismissed her. "Thank you Dee. Resume your post."

"Yes Sir," she answered quietly. She saluted and departed from the commander's quarters.

As soon as he was alone, Adama opened the report from Doctor Marsh and read through the page with more scrutiny than before. It was just the kind of executive report that Adama usually liked to receive from his subordinates. It was brief, concise, and to the point. The doctor didn't bother expounding upon her subject or detailing her analysis. She was simply officially declaring that Lee was psychologically fit for duty... and that didn't sit well with the commander at all.

* * *

"What is this?" Adama asked before he'd even stepped completely across the threshold of Doctor Marsh's office. He held up a folder in one hand, waving it for emphasis. 

Without looking up from the files that she was working on, the doctor replied, "That is the recommendation that I agreed to provide to you regarding the psychological fitness for duty of Captain Adama."

"You were supposed to evaluate him for one week and then make your recommendation," Adama said.

The doctor set aside the folder on her desk and sat back to address the commander's concerns. She spoke concisely and very calmly. "Following today's session it was clear to me what my recommendation would be and that another two sessions would not change my opinion. Therefore, I saw neither any purpose in delaying the submission of my report, nor in detaining Captain Adama from his duties."

"He is not ready to return to duty," Adama declared.

"Oh?" The doctor reached casually for her notepad.

"He still can't even remember what happened that night," Adama argued. "He is traumatized! And we are right in the middle of a potentially volatile situation. This is not the right time to be throwing him back into the fray! What the frak were you thinking?"

"Sit down Commander," the doctor said sternly.

"Answer my frakking question," he demanded. "What were you thinking?"

Diminutive though she was, the doctor still had a formidable presence when she stood up from her desk chair and faced the commander. "If you want an answer, then sit your ass down! You and I will talk, if you like, but we'll do it like civilized adults."

Though it had been many decades since William had been scolded by his mother, the flinch he felt inside was exactly the same as it had been all those many years ago. He actually had to take a second to remind himself that he was not a child, and he was in fact the commander of this ship. Still, looking at Doctor Marsh's stern face he felt compelled to obey. He took a seat on the couch and the doctor sat down in her customary interview chair.

"Let's make a few things very clear Commander," Doctor Marsh said firmly. "Your position of authority on this ship does NOT overrule doctor-patient confidentiality. I do not have to... nor will I... reveal the content of my sessions with my patients to you. When I make an evaluation of fitness for duty, the declaration of 'fit' or 'unfit' is all you need to know. I will not be providing you with evidence or justifications for my decisions. That information WILL remain strictly confidential between me and my patients."

"Fine," Adama agreed reluctantly. "But perhaps it isn't the format of your report that I object to, but rather the soundness of your judgment Doctor."

Doctor Marsh actually smiled at the irate commander. "Bill, don't even try to blow smoke in my face. When you walked in here, you were not a commander objecting to the evaluation of his CAG. You were a father, scared shitless over the prospect that your son could once again be facing danger."

William visibly flinched. After a few seconds of stewing, he admitted, "All right, yes. I am scared for my son. I am scared because I don't think he's ready to be out there again. Not yet."

"And I believe he is," she said resolutely. "Now because you are his father, and not just his commander, I will tell you that Lee does have a few issues still to deal with, including the recent attempt on his life, but... so do you Sunshine, including the recent attempt on _your_ life. Bill, you have unresolved issues dating back more than 40 years, a full freighter-load more than Lee has. Hell, just the issues that the two of you have _with each other_ could keep me busy for a long time. I could damn near make a full-time career out of just the two of you alone. And yet... it is my professional opinion that those issues do not place either of you at undue personal risk nor pose a significant impairment in your abilities to do your jobs. I am in fact recommending that, _at this time,_ you are _both_ fit for duty. So tell me Bill... is my judgment sound?"

William stared at the doctor, knowing damn well he'd just been painted into a corner. He wanted to argue, but he knew it would prove futile. Doctor Marsh's decision would stand and William did not have the authority to overrule her. Lee was officially fit for duty. End of discussion. Lee could not be withheld from duty for medical or psychological reasons. But... exactly what Lee's duties would involve... _that_ was within William's authority to decide.

William started to get up from the couch but he was stopped by the doctor's hand on his shoulder. "Hold on a minute Bill," she said. "I don't want you walking out of here thinking that I don't understand."

"Understand what Doctor?" he asked testily.

Her face grew very serious and she even looked a little sad. "That there is absolutely nothing more painful in all of the human experience than the death... or near death... of a child. It's only been two weeks since you went through that yourself. He has very nearly made a full recovery since then... but _you_ haven't. It's not Lee who isn't ready to return to duty. You aren't ready to see him return to duty. His job is dangerous. You expected to have at least two more days before he'd be facing that danger again and you were caught off guard. I do understand that."

"Fine," William said gruffly. "Good evening, Doctor." He stood up from the couch.

Doctor Marsh called after him. "Bill, when this situation with the Tantalus is resolved, I'd like you both to come in for a joint session."

William had been heading for the door, but he turned around again at the doctor's suggestion. "A joint session?"

"Yes," she resolutely confirmed. "You know damn well that the two of you have _a lot_ that you need to say to each other."

William couldn't very well deny that fact, but he didn't like the idea. "Maybe we do," he agreed. "But I'm not comfortable with the idea of having an audience."

Doctor Marsh nodded her understanding. "That's fair, but consider something. He's in his thirties Bill, and you've never managed yet to have a heart to heart talk with him in private. Have you?"

William didn't offer a reply. He just turned and strode quickly for the door.

* * *

"Reserve Vipers are launched, Apollo," Lee heard PO Dualla say over the headset in his flight helmet. He checked his DRADIS readout and marked the position of the three newly launched Vipers. He'd been flying all night with the squadron and his fuel gauge was creeping into warning territory. "Hot Dog, Stinger, Rat... this is Apollo. Take up position in quadrant Delta. I'll be on your six as soon as I refuel. Kat, Starbuck... you're with me. Down on the deck." 

Lee heard the crackle on his headset that indicated one of his pilots was about to say something. "Apollo... Starbuck. I have more than an hour and a half of fuel left."

"Apollo... this is Kat. I have about the same amount left too Sir."

Lee gritted his teeth. Less than one day, and Kara was doing it already. "Starbuck, Kat... it's your turn for some downtime. Let's go." He banked his Viper to the left and lined up his approach with the hanger deck.

Starbuck spoke up again. "I feel fine Apollo. I don't need a break."

"It wasn't a request Lieutenant," Lee replied sharply. "Now get your bird on deck and report to me." Kara made no reply over the wireless, so Lee knew that she realized he was pissed.

The three Vipers all made picture perfect landings on their designated elevators. Lee heard the LSO declare that his mag lock was secure and the deck below him began to descend. He waited, simmering, until the elevator stopped and a tow car attached to his front landing skids. With a slight jerk, his Viper was pulled from the elevator into the hanger bay where a crew waited to fuel it and ready it again for launch. Popping the cockpit hatch, Lee handed off his helmet to Cally and sprang from his seat.

"We'll have her fueled and ready to launch in 20 minutes Sir," Cally told him. "Any issues?"

"None," he said. "She's flying just fine. Thanks Cally." He offered her a smile.

"Any time Captain," she smiled back.

"You wanted to talk to me Captain," Starbuck said behind him.

Lee turned around. Kara was standing quietly, but she looked decidedly annoyed. "Just a minute Lieutenant. Kat!"

The junior pilot approached her CAG and saluted. "Sir?"

"You're on three hours downtime. Consider yourself still on-alert, but pending a call to action stations I want you to grab some breakfast and then get some sleep."

"Yes Sir," Kat replied. She saluted again and then headed off the hanger deck.

Lee turned his attention back to Kara. "Follow me Lieutenant," he said. He led the way to the tool room and yanked open the hatch. After Kara followed him inside, he took a quick look around and confirmed that no one else was in there. Then he shut the hatch.

As soon as the hatch was closed, Kara protested. "I don't need downtime."

"I don't care if you think you do or not," Lee responded. "You've been up and flying for nearly 20 hours straight now, with only two fueling stops."

"Lee, come on," Kara argued. "You don't need to baby us. You know damn well I've gone a lot longer than 20 hours. We _all_ have."

"That was under full-on Condition One with a constant state of known imminent attack."

"I know that," Kara countered.

"Then you should also recognize that we do _not_ have confirmation of imminent attack, and we are _not_ currently at Condition One. Therefore, it is not necessary to push our pilots as though we were. And secondly _Lieutenant_," he said with special emphasis on Kara's rank, "do _not_ ever question or try to undermine my orders in front of the crew again. If you disagree or you have questions, you can speak to me in private."

"But we weren't..." Kara was about to interject a protest, but Lee abruptly cut her off.

"And if the opportunity for privacy doesn't readily present itself... you bite your frakking tongue until it does! Do you understand Lieutenant?"

Kara stared back at Lee and swallowed hard. "Yes Sir," she said tightly.

More quietly, he told her, "I can't have this anymore Kara. You're my deputy. You're the flight _instructor_. The other pilots, especially the nuggets, will be taking their cues from you, just like Kat did back there. You questioned my orders and she chimed right in. I will _not_ stand for that again. Any more insubordination from you, as minor as it may be, and you will be disciplined. _Don't_ think that I'm kidding."

Kara appeared truly chastised. "I'm sorry. I wasn't... I wasn't trying to undermine you Lee."

He nodded with a bitter smile. "I know. You don't need to try. You just do it by instinct."

"I'm sorry," she said again.

"I hope so," he said. "Because if this is what you call 'doing better', you're not exactly giving me a lot of confidence in you. And I _need_ to be able to trust you Kara." He asked her then with deep sincerity, "Can... I... trust you?"

Kara looked hurt. "Yes," she answered resolutely. "You can trust me Lee. I promise."

Lee nodded, looking a little more reassured. "Then get some breakfast and a few hours of sleep. I'll see you back in the air in three."

To Lee's surprise Kara saluted him before she left the tool room. He hated coming down on her like that, but it had to be done. He could not allow the squadron to start off on the wrong foot his very first day back on the job, so he couldn't allow Kara to start sending mixed messages to the pilots. She had to be held to the same standards as everyone else.

He checked his watch. 15 minutes before launching again. He made a quick stop at the head then headed toward the mess to grab a muffin or something nicely portable for breakfast. Along the way, he encountered his father in the hallway. "Good morning Commander," he greeted him.

"Captain I was hoping to catch up with you," Adama said. "Could you step into my office for a minute?"

"Of course Sir," he replied. Well, he could scratch breakfast. Lee walked with his father to the commander's quarters.

"Chief Tyrol just reported that the Tantalus is ready to begin receiving passengers again," Adama told Lee.

"That's great," Lee replied.

"Rising Star is launching 10 lifeboats to assist with the transfer. They should be landing on Galactica within the next 10 minutes. I would like you to take charge of the passenger transfer. It'll be slow going with only ten lifeboats, but it should also be a lot less hectic than the evacuation was."

"Commander," Lee interjected, "I'm due to launch back out to the CAP in about 10 minutes."

"Starbuck can take command of the CAP," Adama said.

"Starbuck is on three hours downtime Sir," Lee said. "I just now sent her out."

"Well we can call her back."

"She's been on duty almost 20 hours straight Commander."

"I'm sure she can handle it."

"With all due respect Sir, that's the CAG's call to make, not yours," Lee said defiantly.

"Then perhaps I should officially assign Starbuck as the CAG until further notice. Right now, I have other work for you."

"Such as directing the passengers from the museum deck to the lifeboats?" Lee asked incredulously. Lee looked intently at his father's face. "Dad what are you doing?"

"What do you mean, Captain?"

"You know what I mean. You could assign a junior crewman to direct the passengers. You don't need me to do that. I've been fully cleared for flight. I've been flying all night. Why are you pulling me back?"

"Because I choose to Captain. That's all you need to know," William said sternly.

Lee's face transformed slowly from confusion to cold fury. "You still think there's something wrong with me, don't you?" Then Lee accused his father in a coldly quiet voice, "You lied to me."

William looked offended. "Excuse me?"

"You said you wouldn't do this," Lee said. "You promised me that you wouldn't try to circumvent the doctor's recommendation. You swore to me that you would abide by whatever the doctor said. You lied."

Adama faced his angry son calmly. "I do believe that the doctor's recommendation is premature."

"Too bad," Lee said irritably. "You insisted on the counseling in the first place. It was your idea. I didn't have a choice, but I went along with it all because you were convinced that I tried to kill myself. It didn't matter how many times I told you otherwise. You just couldn't trust me. You _wouldn't_ believe me. Now... you know damn well that I didn't do it, but you're still trying to pull this crap? A frakking Cylon tried to kill me! And you know it! Why is it so impossible for you to have any faith in me!"

"It's not a question of faith Lee."

"That's bullshit Dad!"

"Do you think this has been fun for me?" William countered back, losing his temper. "Don't you think I want you to be all right? I agreed to go through counseling too, if you recall. I did it for you. I have spent long days and many sleepless nights worrying about you. Do you think I'm enjoying all this hassle and that I'm doing it for the fun of it? I have plenty enough to worry about without having to worry about you too!"

"Fine," Lee said bitterly. "Then I'll tell you what Dad. The next time, I'll spare you from all the _hassle_, do it right, and swallow a bullet instead." Lee abruptly turned his back on his father and stormed out of the commander's office.

Lee's words sent a shockwave through William's brain. He ran after Lee and grabbed his arm before Lee could exit his quarters. He forced Lee to face him. "Don't... don't _ever_ talk like that. Don't even _think_ like that!"

"Why not?" Lee laughed at his father's face. "You're already totally convinced that I do! It doesn't matter if I tell you otherwise. It doesn't matter what the doctor says. It doesn't matter that you gave me your word! It doesn't even matter that my roommate turned out to be a frakking Cylon! You are never going to listen to me or trust me anyway. What the frak does it matter what I say?"

"Lee..." William's statement was cut short by the blast of the ship's general alarm. Startled, William let go of Lee's arm.

Colonel Tigh's voice sounded over the battlestar's speakers. "Action stations! Action stations! Set Condition One throughout the ship."


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17**

The general alarm blared throughout the ship accompanied by the broadcast voice of Colonel Tigh announcing, "Action stations! Set Condition One throughout the ship!"

"Frak," Lee swore. "Can the Tantalus jump?"

It took a second for Adama to process the situation. "Yes."

"We can forget the passenger transfer, but the lifeboats are still en route," Lee said before taking off at a run.

William swore softly and headed off for the CIC. He knew Lee was on his way to the flight deck to launch his Viper and the thought ate at his gut, but it was too late to trying calling him back now. Besides, William also knew that he couldn't justify keeping Lee grounded now even if he tried.

Lee encountered Kara in the hallway, hurrying back to the launch deck while wolfing down a piece of toast. "Damn Cylons interrupted my breakfast Captain," she quipped. She gave him a sly wink and asked, "Will it piss you off if I gloat just a little?"

Still fuming over his father's attempt to ground him, Lee replied sharply, "Do you really want to find out?"

She frowned. "Ewkay... you're already pissed off. I'll gloat later... in private of course."

Both pilots ran for their Vipers. Kat came rushing in several steps behind them. Lee hurried to get his helmet in place so that he could switch on his wireless headset. Even before his cockpit was sealed, Lee was asking, "CIC... Apollo, what have we got Dee?"

In the CIC, PO Dualla checked her monitor. "Apollo, we have a scouting party of 10 Raiders approaching the fleet through quadrant epsilon. They appear to know that they've been detected and have broken into two groups of five, traveling approximately 500 meters apart from each other. Their separation distance is increasing."

Commander Adama watched the central DRADIS console, observing the movements of the Cylon Raiders. Over the speakers he heard Apollo's reply to Dualla's information.

Apollo: "_Copy that Dee. Blue flight, establish defensive perimeter at position deacon. Red flight..._"

As Apollo deployed his pilots who were already in flight, the commander turned his attention to Lieutenant Gaeta. "Are the lifeboats closer to us or the Rising Star?"

Gaeta responded, "They're closer to Galactica Sir."

Colonel Tigh pointed out, "If they're on our deck it'll make combat landings a lot more difficult."

"ETA for the Raiders?" the commander inquired.

"Three minutes out," Gaeta replied.

Colonel Tigh suggested, "If the Vipers can hold them off at distance we might have time to send the lifeboats back."

The commander shook his head. "Too risky. The lifeboats will be easy targets if just one Raider breaks through and the Rising Star would have to delay its jump. We need to keep the Vipers close enough to run escort until the lifeboats are on our deck." His eyes scanned the DRADIS display and he smiled. Lee had reached the same conclusion as his father. The Vipers were not moving out to engage but were taking up defensive positions along the flight path of the slower unarmed civilian ships.

Commander Adama announced, "Commence emergency jump procedures for all civilian vessels. Spin up our own drives and hold at t-minus 10 seconds. Dee, inform the Rising Star they are to proceed with their jump and that we'll be bringing the lifeboats onto Galactica." The crew jumped into action. They all knew the drill. They had performed this procedure literally hundreds of times since fleeing the colonies.

Starbuck was fidgeting in her seat while she awaited the final clearance to launch. These last few seconds of waiting were always the worst. The launch checklist was completed and she gave the thumbs-up. The tube door swung open in front of her, sucking all of the lingering oxygen around her viper out the tube and into space. She heard the signal, "Launch" and braced herself. A moment later the catapult was hurling her Viper down the launch tube. She felt that familiar sense of exhilaration as the tube walls raced past, then she cleared the tube and was flying free in open space. Somehow the thrill of launch never got old.

From the corner of her eye she saw the sleek silhouette of Apollo's Mark VII Viper slipping into standard formation off her starboard wing. She assumed that Kat was moving up on Apollo's right, but she was too busy studying her DRADIS to double-check. Besides, Apollo was the CAG again, so it was his job to keep tabs on all the other pilots. Kara couldn't help smiling just a bit. She was glad to be relinquishing that responsibility back to Lee and just be able to concentrate on her own flying again. She heard Lee's voice over the headset in her helmet.

Apollo: "_Starbuck... Apollo. Take charge of Red Flight. Make sure everybody knows the lifeboats will be on the deck when the recall is ordered._"

"Copy that Apollo," she replied.

Apollo: "_Kat, you're with Starbuck. Good hunting_."

Starbuck saw the brief flash of light beside her as Apollo kicked in his thrusters and banked to the right. She pulled on her own joystick and banked to the left.

Commander Adama watched the two blips on the monitors that represented Apollo's and Starbuck's Vipers. They slid apart, each moving to join the two groups of Vipers that were already in position to intercept the two advancing groups of Raiders.

"Be safe Kids," he whispered very quietly.

Then the waiting game began. The civilian vessels initiated their FTL jumps. First in ones and twos and then in larger numbers, the blips representing the fleet ships began to disappear from the tracking screens. The Raiders continued their steady advancement and the lifeboats slowly continued their approach toward Galactica. Eyeing the speed of the vessels on the DRADIS it soon became apparent that the Raiders would close the distance before the lifeboats could all be brought on board. The Vipers would have no choice but to slug it out.

Apollo: "_Hot Dog, hold your position._"

The commander perked up at the sound of his son's voice over the CIC speakers.

Hot Dog: "_They're almost in missile range Apollo._"

Apollo: "_I said hold position. We're not out here to rack up points. We're here to protect the civilians. Now get back in formation._"

Starbuck grinned and toggled her mike temporarily off. Then she said, "Hot Dog, you are in for a lecture when this is over. Share the joy."

The commander watched the screens, nervously anticipating the start of a battle. The Raiders were one minute out. Then they disappeared.

"They jumped," Colonel Tigh stated.

Starbuck: "_What the frak?_"

Apollo: "_All Vipers... fall back to close range with the Galactica! Now!_"

In the commander's mind he could picture the Vipers executing 180 degree flips and closing their range in tighter toward Galactica. Seconds later the enemy signals reappeared on the screens, between the Vipers and the battlestar.

"All cannons hold fire!" the commander ordered. If the gunners opened up now they were just as likely to hit the Vipers as they were to hit the enemy.

"Gutsy jump," Colonel Tigh muttered. "That's frakking close range."

"Fleet status?" the commander inquired.

"All ships are away," Lieutenant Gaeta announced. "Lifeboats are on final approach."

"And they're panicking," PO Dualla said, wincing over the incoming signals on her headset.

Starbuck: "_Watch your targets! We have civvies in the air!_"

Apollo: "_Red flight, cover the landing bay and approach. Blue flight, follow me._"

The intricate dance of fighter combat had begun. The commander watched Apollo's Viper leading his group to form a defense around the outermost lifeboats, racing to intercept the four Raiders that headed out to pick off the slow stragglers. He heard Dualla speaking calmly and sternly to one of the lifeboat pilots that he needed to stay calm, concentrate on his approach, and trust the Vipers to protect him.

Apollo: "_Galactica... Apollo. I count eight Raiders. Repeat, only eight Raiders. There were 10 before. Do you have the other 2 on DRADIS?_"

The commander's eyes scanned the monitors. Apollo was right. 10 Raiders had jumped. Only 8 Raiders had reappeared.

Dualla replied to Apollo's inquiry. "Negative Apollo. We have only 8."

Starbuck: "_Make that 7_."

One Raider signal winked out as Starbuck's fire hit her target. The commander smiled slightly. Starbuck was definitely sounding pleased with herself. A few seconds later another Raider blinked out, shortly followed by another. Five left. Then only 4. The commander began to feel the tension ease off a bit. This encounter was going nicely in their favor.

The four remaining Raiders suddenly changed course and began retreating from the engagement. One of the pilots gave a loud whoop.

Hot Dog: "_They are bugging out! Do we pursue_?"

Apollo: "_Negative. The civilians have priority._"

"What is the status on those lifeboats?" the commander inquired.

Gaeta replied. "Six are on deck. Four more on approach." Then he straightened up in his chair and shouted, "Contact. 2 Cylon Raiders!"

PO Dualla relayed the information to Apollo. "Apollo... Galactica. We have new contacts. 2 Cylon Raiders at position 270 constellation. Radiological alarm!"

Apollo: "_Copy Galactica. Starbuck, Stinger, Trip... you're with me. The rest of you guard those lifeboats down to the deck._"

The new contacts were at a perpendicular angle from the fleeing Raiders. The four Vipers had to burn their thrusters hard to position themselves between the new threat and the Galactica.

"Incoming... four missiles," Lieutenant Gaeta announced. It went without saying that the missiles were carrying nukes.

Apollo: "_Missiles first. Raiders second. Starbuck, Trip... take the left. Stinger, with me on the right._"

Commander Adama could here the rapid percussive sound over the speakers that told him the Vipers were already opening fire. He held his breath.

Trip: "_Won't they blow up in our faces?_"

Starbuck: "_You thought you'd live forever?_"

Muted sounds that the commander hoped were exploding missiles carried over the speakers. "Come on," he urged his pilots quietly.

Starbuck: "_2 down! Apollo?_"

After a brief pause, there was another muffled thump.

Apollo: "_We got 'em both._"

Trip: "_Why didn't the nukes blow?_"

Stinger: "_Who cares?_"

Starbuck: "_Safeties. The Raiders don't want them blowing up in their own faces. Now get a grip. We're not done out here_."

Apollo: "_Cut the chatter and start shooting_."

Stinger: "_Say good night! Come on you frakkers!_"

The commander watched the two Raiders split apart and the four Vipers divided to engage them. He allowed himself a long deep breath now that the nukes had been taken out.

"They jumped," Gaeta announced.

Adama studied the screen. It took a second before he realized what Gaeta was saying. The four Raiders that had broken off their engagement around the Galactica had disappeared from the DRADIS. A second later, four new blips appeared, practically on top of Apollo and Stinger. The commander reflexively sucked in an anxious breath.

Apollo: "_Stinger, break hard right!_"

Stinger: "_Frakking bastards!_"

Apollo: "_Starbuck_..."

Starbuck: "_On the way. Move it Trip!_"

"Commander, the final lifeboat is over the threshold," PO Dualla announced.

"Recall Vipers," the commander ordered. "Prepare to retract the pods." His eyes never strayed from the shifting blips on the DRADIS that showed his son and Stinger fighting for their lives. Starbuck and Trip had broken off pursuit of their Raider and were closing in to assist, but it could be all over at any moment. Stinger's voice over the speakers sounded panicked.

Stinger: "_He's on me! He's on me!_"

Adama couldn't quiet visualize in his mind what must have happened next. Apollo's signal began pulling maneuvers that shouldn't have been possible. In all of his own years flying Vipers he'd never seen a fighter changing speeds and directions so dramatically. For a few seconds he was fearfully convinced that Lee's ship had been hit and he was tumbling out of control. The DRADIS display couldn't quite track him and it almost looked like Apollo's viper was heading in three directions at once, then the monitor settled on his position more securely, but by then two Cylons had almost simultaneously dropped off the scopes, including the one that had been tailing Stinger. Adama was stunned to actually hear Lee laugh over the speakers.

Apollo: "_Whoa, what a head rush! Don't try that one more than once a day_."

Stinger: "_Holy Frak!_"

Apollo: "_On your left Stinger, get him!_"

Lee was actually sounding giddy. Adama tried to picture in his head just how the heck Apollo could have intentionally pulled off that maneuver. He didn't think it was even technologically possible in the old Mark II's that Adama himself had once flown, but Lee was flying a Mark VII. The Mark VII was faster and far more maneuverable than any of its predecessors. The sales pitch on the new model had even come with a warning. "The speed and power of this ship could kill you. Only truly qualified pilots should ever fly this plane."

Zak had died at the controls of a Mark VII. He wasn't qualified to fly it, and his bird had escaped his control. But Lee was out there, putting that plane through its paces... and laughing about it. Starbuck was apparently impressed by what she had seen as well.

Starbuck: "_Apollo... you show off!_"

Apollo: "_Hey, shut up and shoot_."

Now outnumbered, the remaining Cylons broke off and fled. Adama quickly ordered Dualla, "Get those fighters on the deck!"

"Contact!" Gaeta shouted. "Cylon Raiders... at least 50. Two minutes out."

Apollo: "_Combat landings! Move!_"

Colonel Tigh commented, "Let's hope they don't try a close range jump like the last bunch. But where's the base ship? They've obviously got us pinpointed. Why just Raiders?"

"Maybe they came from a ground base," the commander speculated. "Anyway I don't intend to stick around long enough to find out. Stand by to retract the pods. Begin final FTL count as soon those fighters have crossed the threshold." It was a race now to get the four Vipers on board, secure the landing bays, and initiate the jump before the Galactica was swarmed by the incoming Raiders.

Apollo: "_Heads up on the landing! The deck is going to be crowded._"

Starbuck: "_Slow up Trip._"

Trip: "_Do you see what's behind us?_"

Starbuck: "_The deck is too full for a combat speed landing! Slow up or you'll be just as dead as with a Cylon missile and you'll probably take the rest of us with you!_"

Apollo: "_Back off the throttle Trip. You have time._"

Apollo's voice sounded calm and confident over the speakers. It was in sharp contrast to the feeling that the sight of the incoming cloud of Raiders stirred in Adama's gut.

"Incoming missiles!" Lieutenant Gaeta announced.

"They're over the threshold!" Dualla declared.

"Retract the pods!" Colonel Tigh ordered. "Start the count!"

Apollo: "_Pods are moving! Heads up!_"

As if the forward momentum wasn't enough to deal with, the landing deck was now sliding sideways beneath the incoming Vipers. Starbuck scoped out a clear spot and fired her maneuvering jets, settling down nicely and neatly and kicking on the mag lock to secure her skids to the deck. She looked up to briefly see Apollo's Mark VII hovering, and then drifting sideways to touch down easily between two other parked Vipers. Farther down the deck, Trip was pulling a bouncer. He skidded for a ways across the deck before coming to a stop only a few feet from one of the Rising Star's lifeboats. She leaned forward and saw that Stinger was already grounded. Then she felt the odd stretching sensation that briefly preceded a FTL jump. Then they snapped back into regular space.

Vacuum-suited deckhands came pouring out of the airlocks to position the vipers on the elevators for return to the hanger deck. Kara switched off her helmet mike and relaxed in her seat. Then she started laughing. The adrenaline rush was still coursing through her body and she whooped out loud. "Damn, what a morning!"

* * *

Lee exited his Viper as quickly as he could to take a full head count. All pilots were accounted for. No one had been lost. Lee said a silent prayer of thanks, then spread the word. "Briefing room, 20 minutes! 20 minutes people!" 

About half of the squadron already knew the drill. They had lived through those harrowing 5 days of non-stop pursuit, launching 280 consecutive times to hold off the Cylon attacks that came every 33 minutes. The other half were nuggets who had joined the squadron later and were not accustomed to such short turnarounds, but they followed the lead of their senior teammates.

In the CIC, everyone readied themselves for another emergency jump. All civilian ships were accounted for and a new set of coordinates was generated and distributed to the fleet. Though they hadn't been followed through a hyperlight jump for several weeks, it was now routine to remain on full alert and in heightened awareness until after the infamous 33-minute period had passed.

In preflight briefing, Lee was pleased to see that the morale of the squadron was generally good. In spite of his nervousness during their recent encounter, Trip looked relaxed now and his face reflected solemn resolve. Lee felt assured he'd be fine. Stinger, on the other hand, still appeared very shaken. Usually the kid was very cool in combat and in spite of his young age he was one of the more senior pilots in the squadron. Lee reminded himself however, that Stinger had never flown into combat before without his partner and mentor, Frosty. Frosty had always been the one to look out for Stinger. Now on his first time out without Frosty, Stinger had nearly bought it. His close call with the Raiders had really shaken him up. Lee was also keenly aware that a few weeks ago it was Stinger who had helped to save Lee's life.

"This shouldn't surprise anyone," Lee told his pilots, "but the transfer of passengers back to the Tantalus is on hold. The lifeboats from the Rising Star are being consolidated to a far corner of the landing deck in the case that combat landings will be needed again in the immediate future. Most of you are old pros at this so I won't belabor the point. If we do engage again, don't let them draw you out beyond the recovery zone. Just cover the civilians and get your butts back on the deck as soon as the recall is issued. Good hunting everyone. Stinger, hold back here for a minute."

The other pilots filtered from the room to head back for the launch bay. Stinger remained in his seat, averting his eyes from his CAG. Lee stepped out from behind the podium and walked up to stand by the front row of chairs. "How are you doing Stinger?" Lee asked.

Without looking up, Stinger replied, "I'm all right Captain."

"You know, a scrape like that could leave anybody a little rattled," Lee said.

Stinger nodded, but looked very troubled. "But if you hadn't been there Sir... Frak, if you hadn't been there..."

"Someone else would have been," Lee said, though he knew it was stretching the truth a bit. "Stinger, I know it probably feels a little uncomfortable not to have Frosty watching your back anymore, but you're not out there alone. We're all out there with you."

Stinger nodded and finally looked up at his CAG. "Yes Sir. Thank you Sir."

Lee gave him a reassuring smile. "Now I don't want to speculate on whether or not the Cylons are going to turn up in another 8 minutes, but if they do, we need you on your game Stinger. You're a good pilot. The team needs you."

Stinger swallowed hard, but he still looked very shaken. "I'm with you Captain."

"Good man," Lee told him. Yet even as he said it, Lee himself suddenly felt very unsettled. Stinger's troubled face made Lee feel very uneasy. He didn't understand where that feeling came from, but he didn't have time to dwell on it either.

* * *

At the 27-minute mark on the countdown clock, Lee heard the request from Commander Adama over his headset to confirm that all Vipers were ready for launch. Apollo calmly replied, "Actual... Apollo. All Vipers ready." 

Lieutenant Gaeta's voice announced, "New jump coordinates are ready Commander. Transmitting to fleet."

Lee sat in the launch tube, hands poised over the controls. His eyes watched the clock on his console, counting down from 33 minutes to 0. At t-minus 1 minute he braced himself for potential imminent launch, though he doubted it would be necessary. The seconds ticked slowly down to zero. Lee listened intently for the order to launch.

"No contacts," Lee heard Lieutenant Gaeta report. Lee allowed the tension to settle out of his body.

The commander's voice announced into his ear, "Launch standard CAP. All other Vipers, hold on alert."

"Copy that Actual," Lee replied. "Trip, Lucky, Seldom, and Mouse... launch on CAP. Everybody else just sit tight for Condition 2."

When the clock finally ticked past t-plus 20 minutes, Lee heard the commander announce the stand down to Condition 2. Lee powered down his Viper and announced to the waiting deckhands that the tube was now safe. 6 crewmen poured into the tube and began pulling the Viper back into the hanger bay. Into his helmet mike, Lee told his pilots, "Hot Dog, Sandy, Gasm, and Slush... you 4 are on alert status. Everybody else is on stand-by except Kat and Starbuck who still have three hours of rack time coming. I'll get a reading from the commander on when the transfer of passengers will resume."

Lee hurried from the flight deck to the CIC. By the time he arrived, the command center had already returned to normal operations. The commander was standing with Lieutenant Gaeta by the center console reviewing the initial scans of the new territory they had just jumped into. Lee walked toward them and stood where he knew his father would notice his arrival, but not to where he was interrupting them. After a few more minutes the commander turned his attention toward Lee. In a proper military tone, Lee told him, "Just wanted to find out when you want me to begin escorting the passengers to the flight deck, Commander."

The commander looked at Lee thoughtfully. "Come with me Captain," he said, leading Lee out of the central command floor and over by the door where they were no longer under observation by the rest of the crew. "You can expect the transfer to get under way again in about an hour," he told Lee. "We need to coordinate with the Tantalus first, so we'll keep you informed. And Captain... Petty Officer McNeil will oversee the passengers."

"McNeil?" Lee asked in surprise.

"You've already got your hands full with your duties as CAG. Isn't that right?"

Lee's previously rigid expression softened a bit. "Yes Sir. That's right."

"I do have an additional request, however," the commander said, looking meaningfully at his son. "Amidst your regular duties, I want you to continue regular sessions with Doctor Marsh."

Lee frowned. "With all due respect, Commander, that isn't up to you. I have been cleared for duty. Whether I continue sessions with Doctor Marsh or not is none of your business."

"It's not an order Captain," the commander explained. "It's a request. And I'm not asking as your commander. I'm asking as your father."

With an icy cool stare, Lee replied, "It's still not up to you."

"Lee please..."

"Will that be all Commander?" Lee asked abruptly.

They stared at each for several seconds before the commander resignedly replied, "Carry on Captain."

Lee spun on his heel and walked away from the CIC. He headed toward the mess. He figured he would have just enough time to sit down for a light breakfast before calling the pre-flight briefing. He didn't know why he felt so touchy. His father wasn't trying to pull him from flight anymore. So, why did the Old Man's simple request bother him so much?

In his head, Lee could almost hear his mother's voice chastising him gently. "_Lee you need to give your father a break. He may not always get it right, but it's never because he doesn't love you._"

Lee argued back silently, "It's not about love Mom. He has no faith in me. No matter what I do, no matter how well I do my job, unless I'm fitting into the mold for that perfect little William clone that he's always wanted me to be, he'll always think there is something wrong with me._ I shouldn't bother thinking about my past actions. I need to pick a side. I'm weighed down by conventional thinking. I don't trust my instincts. I need to lose control._ I'm sick of it!"

Lee had to stop and step aside in the hallway to allow passage for a heavily loaded work crew. As he waited, he started to chuckle at himself. He thought, "I'm arguing with my dead mother. Maybe I _should _be talking to Doctor Marsh."

He walked into the mess and approached the counter, scanning over the menu options. He was just about to place an order when he felt a tap on his shoulder. He glanced back and saw Kara. "Why are you so opposed to sleeping?" he asked her.

"You interrupted my breakfast earlier, remember?" she chided him.

"I think that was the Cylons."

"Whatever," she shrugged. "I just thought I'd finish up." Kara nodded her head toward the corner. "We, uh, have a problem child here."

Lee looked over in the direction Kara had indicated and saw Stinger sitting by himself and looking thoroughly miserable. "Stinger's still pretty rattled huh?"

"Yeah," Kara confirmed. "Since you seem to be better at this whole talky-TLC thing than I am, I thought maybe you should have a go at him."

Lee nodded and headed over toward Stinger. After a few steps however, he stopped. There was something... _familiar_. Something in Stinger's expression... the troubled look on his face... set Lee's pulse briefly racing. He stood staring at Stinger for a few more seconds, and then turned back toward Kara. She was still standing there, watching him. He motioned for her to step closer, then he told her in a very low voice, "Kara, scrounge up a couple of security guards please."

Puzzled by the request, she asked, "Why?"

"In case I'm right," was all he said.

"About what?" she prodded him.

Lee didn't answer her, but his face was almost as troubled now as Stinger's. He resumed walking toward the junior pilot. Kara felt suddenly very uneasy and hurried out in search of a security detail. Just as she stepped outside the mess she almost bumped into a trio of marines who were on their way in to grab a bite to eat.

"Hah! Perfect! You three are right on time!" she told them.

"For what?" one of the marines asked.

"I don't know. Just follow me," she told them cryptically.

Lee sat down at the table beside Stinger. "How's it going Lou?" he asked easily.

Stinger looked up at Lee a little sheepishly and said, "I'm all right Captain."

"Sorry," Lee said. "I don't buy it. You look like shit, Stinger."

"Rough morning," Stinger replied, fiddling anxiously with a buckle on his flight suit.

"Yeah I know," Lee agreed. "But you did good out there."

Stinger looked away, obviously disagreeing with his CAG's appraisal. "I almost bought it. If you hadn't been there Sir... frak." The junior pilot looked very frightened for a few seconds then he calmed down again.

Lee glanced to his left and saw Kara standing nearby with three marines. Stinger had not noticed them approaching. Lee subtly indicated for Kara to maintain their distance for the moment.

Kara quietly told the marines, "Hold here." Then she stepped a little closer on her own, determined to hear what Lee and Stinger were saying.

Lee sat forward toward the junior pilot and took a deep breath. "You know Stinger... I don't think I ever really thanked you. If you hadn't stepped in to help me that night after Frosty attacked me... I wouldn't have made it."

Stinger flinched sharply, then laughed, almost sounding slightly hysterical. "And then today, neither would I," Stinger declared.

Lee smiled sadly. "Funny how that works huh? I'm grateful to you Stinger. I mean that. I'm grateful for what you did for me... but I can't help wondering why you bothered."

Stinger looked back at Lee, suddenly appearing very uncertain. He fidgeted with a buckle even more.

Lee went on, speaking softly. "You could have just left me dead, but you didn't. Why? Why did you change your mind?"

Across Stinger's face, uncertainty changed to sheer fright. He stared in silence, then finally whispered, "They said you wouldn't remember."

Kara winced. "_Not him too_," she thought. "_Frak it, not him too_!"

Lee's expression took on a look of deep sadness. "They?" he asked. "Who are _they_?"

Stinger dropped his eyes down. He couldn't look at his CAG anymore. His face deeply pained, he said, "Frosty told me. He said we didn't need to worry, 'cause they told him that you wouldn't remember. Frakking Cylon Frosty! I should have known he was lying. Aw frak!" Stinger looked like he was right on the verge of a breakdown.

Lee couldn't manage much sympathy for the young pilot's distress however. He asked pointedly, "Who are _they_, Stinger?"

"I'm sorry Captain," Stinger said, trembling. "I didn't want to do it. I really didn't. I asked Frosty if there wasn't some other way, but he said... he said they were counting on us. And it was... it was our duty."

"Your _duty_?" Lee echoed incredulously. "Your duty to what? To whom?"

"To my people," Stinger whispered.

Even more mystified, Lee stammered to ask, "To our people?"

"To _my_ people, Sir," Stinger clarified. "As a warrior, I'd have followed you to hell and back. I would have. But I'm still a Sagittarron first."

Under her breath, Kara cursed, "Son of a frakkin'..." That meant that Zarek was involved after all. It had to. This was not just the case of a lone Cylon assassin.

"The homeland, Captain," Stinger was trying to explain. "Your duty to your homeland has to always come first. And Frosty said we were chosen... and they were counting on us. Frosty... frakking Cylon Frosty! He lied to me, didn't he? Aw shit, Captain, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

Kara saw Lee clenching his fist. His jaw line was rigid. Kara half-expected Lee to launch himself at Stinger and snap the young pilot's neck. Instead, Lee sat back and said tightly, "I meant what I said, Stinger. I'm grateful that you helped me, and I'll make sure the tribunal knows it."

Stinger made no attempt to respond. He sank lower into his chair, hiding his face.

Lee stood up and icily told the marines, "Take him to the brig. I'll go talk to Sergeant Hadrian." He didn't wait to watch the proceedings. He just strode rapidly from the mess.

Kara was right on Lee's heels. "His duty to his _homeland_?" she scoffed viciously. "Frakking idiot! His homeland is a nuclear waste dump. What a freaking moron!"

"Not now Kara!" Lee snapped harshly.

Kara clammed up when she saw that Lee's hands were shaking. Much more quietly she asked, "You okay?"

"No," he answered abruptly.

Trying to sound sympathetic, she said, "Well, at least you remembered."

He shook his head sharply. "No, I didn't. Not quite."

"Then how did you know Stinger was involved?"

"I didn't," Lee declared. "It was a gut feeling. Just a hunch." And damn it, Lee had really been hoping he would be proven wrong.

"It was more than a hunch Lee," Kara said. "I think you're on the verge of remembering."

"And I'm starting to think that I really don't want to."

"Why?"

Lee was struggling to keep it together. "Because the more this pans out, the more I keep finding out there is _no one_ I can trust!"

Kara saw that Lee was on the brink of falling apart and she grabbed his arm. He turned on her abruptly as if ready for a fight.

"What!" he shouted.

Very softly, Kara told him, "Lee... you can trust me."

He settled down a little bit, but he still looked doubtful. Rather than argue the point with him, Kara just hugged him. Surprisingly, he let her.


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18**

_"Sagittarrons _first?" Commander Adama scowled darkly.

"That's what he said," Lee confirmed.

Kara stood by, off to the side, observing the conversation between the two Adama men. In spite of Lee's assurances to her that he was up to talking with Sergeant Hadrian, and subsequently the commander, on his own, Kara had stubbornly stuck with him. Even if he didn't need it, she knew that Lee could benefit from a little extra moral support right now. Besides, there was no way in hell she could have managed to just kick back for a nap at this point, even if she had been up for well over 24 hours.

"So Zarek is behind this after all," the commander said gruffly. "_Tom Zarek_," Adama thought darkly. The Sagittarron representative to the Quorum of Twelve with aspirations toward the Presidency. The terrorist who had once tried to hold the fleet hostage in the midst of a critical water crisis for the sole sake of creating anarchy in the fleet and forcing the military to make a martyr out of him. To think that it was Lee's intervention that saved Zarek's life at the conclusion of the hostage crisis! The bastard certainly had a warped way of showing his gratitude.

"That's a bit of a leap in logic," Lee said. "Stinger hasn't named anyone but Frosty yet. We don't know who recruited them. We don't really know that Zarek is even involved."

"Yes we do," Adama countered. "We just can't _prove_ it yet. Yet! We need those pilots to name names!"

"Sergeant Hadrian is working on it," Lee told him. "But what about the fact that Frosty is a Cylon?"

"Maybe Zarek just got lucky when he recruited him," Adama speculated. "Or maybe the Cylon volunteered his services."

Kara suggested, "Maybe Zarek knew all along and recruited himself a Cylon deliberately."

Lee appeared doubtful. "Now you're accusing a member of the Quorum of high treason."

"And?" Kara asked.

Lee shook his head. "I don't trust Zarek either but... you don't really think that one of our elected leaders would knowingly conspire with a Cylon?"

Kara smirked and gave a casual shrug. "He tried to topple the government once by putting a gun to your head and he failed. I wouldn't put it past him to try it again, whatever it took."

Lee looked like he was about to argue, but then he stopped and shook his head. "You know what? I'm not even going to comment. My judgment about people has proven to be seriously flawed lately."

"Don't beat yourself up Lee," Kara told him. "None of us saw this coming from Frosty or Stinger. It's possible that Zarek doesn't have anything to do with it. Frosty might have just used Stinger's loyalty to his colony to manipulate him."

Commander Adama shook his head. "No. Zarek is dirty. We already have circumstantial evidence connecting him."

Lee looked at his father, surprised. "We do?"

"The girlfriend," Kara said, frowning in remembrance.

Lee looked toward Kara. "What girlfriend?"

"Stinger's girlfriend," Kara replied.

"He has one?"

"So they claimed," Kara said, rolling her eyes.

"What about her?" Lee continued looking back and forth between Kara and his father for an explanation.

Commander Adama told Lee, "Stinger allegedly called her on the Geminon Traveler not long after you were taken to sickbay. Ten minutes later, somebody sent a message from the Geminon Traveler to the Astral Queen saying that the 'job was completed.' The next morning, before word had gotten out to the rest of the fleet, Zarek tried to offer his condolences over your death."

Lee stared at his father, trying to let all of this new information sink in. "When were you planning to tell me this?"

"It wasn't much to go on Lee," the commander said. "Until now, it all really looked like it was of no consequence. But now that we know Stinger has been lying..."

"I think it's time we had a little chat with the girlfriend," Kara declared.

"The President was going to send someone over to do that," Adama said. "I'll call Colonial One and get a status on that."

"The President knows all about this too?" Lee asked, stunned.

Adama nodded. "She's the one who first put 2 and 2 together."

Lee shook his head in disbelief. Then he looked at Kara. "What was I just saying not long ago? Is there _anyone_ who hasn't been lying to me?"

Kara thought Lee looked like he was the verge of going ballistic. "Lee listen... we just all really thought it was probably nothing."

"Well it shouldn't have been too hard to clue me in then, should it? Besides, it was obviously of interest enough that _all_ of you knew about it!" he half-shouted. He turned angrily toward his father. "And you... you've had all of this information... and yet you _still_... you still wanted to convince me that I must be brain frakked?"

Lee threw up his hands and turned his back on both of them, storming angrily from the commander's quarters. Neither of them tried to stop him. Neither of them dared.

* * *

"Commander, can you hear me?" Billy Keikeya asked, leaning toward the speaker phone on the President's desk. 

"Yes, I can," the commander replied over the speaker. "Go ahead. You've talked to this... Ms. Holt?"

"I spoke with her yesterday Commander," Billy replied. "I was going to forward you the notes from my interview, but then the whole emergency with the Tantalus occurred... and then of course the Cylons showed up this morning... so..."

"What did she tell you Mr. Keikeya?" the commander interrupted, trying to move the conversation forward.

Billy cleared his throat. "Well, first off... she said that she had no idea who Ensign Louis Karo is, which really isn't surprising once you've met her. The implication that she was Stinger's girlfriend... it's uh... well... she's old enough to be his mother for one thing. Not that that's necessarily a bad thing. I'm sure that some people manage relationships just fine when they're..."

"What else did she say?" Adama's voice was sounding more irritated.

Laura smiled at her nervous secretary. "Relax Billy," she whispered. "He can't bite over the phone."

Billy tried to compose himself. He took a deep breath. It was difficult to imagine how Adama did it, but somehow the commander still succeeded in being intimidating even when he wasn't even on the same ship. "Ms. Holt said that uh... a short while prior to 01:00 hours... she wasn't exactly sure of the time... a call came in from Galactica for the crew-lead of the work detail from the Astral Queen. She was overseeing the crew on behalf of the Geminon Traveler. They had been working on the problem in the bilge for more than four hours and they were almost finished, so they didn't want to interrupt what they were doing for a phone call. Ms. Holt took a message and agreed to pass it on. She said the caller identified himself only as 'Stinger' and she had no idea who that was."

"What was the message?" Commander Adama's voice sounded eerily grim.

"This shouldn't be considered as an exact quote Commander," Billy told him, qualifying his statements. "She was just recalling it from the best of her memory. She said that 'Stinger' asked her to tell the crew-lead that Apollo was dead and that it looked like suicide. She also said that the crew lead was to be told to pass along that information to the appropriate parties."

There was silence on the other end of the line. Billy waited for a response and was about to inquire if the commander had heard him when the President waved him off. Taking his cue from the President, Billy held his tongue and waited.

"We'll need her to make an official statement," Commander Adama finally said. "Our Master-At-Arms, Sergeant Hadrian, will see to it. Mr. Keikeya?"

"Yes Commander?"

"Are you satisfied that Ms. Holt was being honest with you about her part in this and she did nothing more than pass along a phone message?"

"I uh, I believed her to be sincere Commander," Billy replied. "I do believe that the call coming from Galactica was intended for the crew-lead from the Astral Queen, and not for Ms. Holt. But that's just my opinion. I'm sure the Master-At-Arms would be a better judge of whether..."

"You understand," Commander Adama interrupted, "that this information, and all of the content of your interview with Ms. Holt are to remain strictly confidential while this investigation is under way?"

"Yes," Billy confirmed. "I understand completely."

"You are not to speak about it with anyone... not even _a member of my crew_. Is that clear?"

The implied reference to Dualla was indeed clear to Billy. "Yes Commander. Perfectly clear." Billy looked over toward the President, seeking some sign of sympathy, but he only saw her grinning in broad amusement.

"Madame President, are you still there?" Commander Adama asked.

Laura sat forward closer to the phone. "Yes Commander."

"I realize you have considerable concerns with regard to a potential murder conspiracy involving a member of the Quorum of Twelve, but I believe it would be highly counterproductive, if not plainly foolish, for us to be investigating this matter separately."

"I don't dispute that Commander," the President replied. "A single investigation is definitely preferable, and I have full confidence in your people. However... I must insist upon being fully informed of any new developments since we may be facing a potential constitutional crisis."

"Agreed," Commander Adama declared.

"This is going to get very ugly," the President stated. "It's unprecedented in the history of the Articles of Colonization. No seated member of the Quorum has ever been charged with a capital crime."

"I don't believe that a convicted terrorist has ever been elected to the Quorum before," Adama replied.

"Well, Gods willing, he won't remain on the Quorum for long," Laura declared. "How is Captain Apollo?"

"Fully returned to duty," Adama said simply.

"Isn't that a little early?" Laura inquired.

"Not according to his doctors."

Laura smiled. "Well that's good to hear."

Commander Adama made no comment to that statement. "I'm heading over to the Tantalus," he told the President. "The last of the passengers are being transferred back right now and I want to make sure we've addressed all their concerns."

"Sounds like a good plan," the President said, grinning. "In fact it almost sounds like you might be considering running for office. There should be a vacancy opening up soon."

"Is that an offer or a threat?"

Billy started back in his chair. "Was that a joke?" he mouthed to the President.

"Anyway," Adama said, "I'll be checking in with Sergeant Hadrian when I return from the Tantalus. If there is anything new, I will inform you immediately."

"Thank you Commander."

"Thank you Madame President." The line clicked off.

Laura looked over at Billy with a mocking smile. "Now Billy... why were you so nervous about talking to the Commander?" Billy just grinned sheepishly. "Not so easy is it?" she teased him.

Billy cleared his throat. "No, it's not. But you seem to be getting better at it."

She laughed and shook her head. "That's what I thought back on Colonial Day. Two days later he threw me in the brig."

* * *

The commander's inspection of the repairs on the Tantalus took well over an hour. It wasn't that he didn't trust the quality of the workmanship by his people, but the crew of the Tantalus needed almost constant reassurances that the systems were not only currently functioning, but were also completely reliable. Chief Tyrol had in fact, not only overseen the repair of the damaged systems, he had directed his crews to install additional redundancies in the failover mechanisms that would ensure the backup systems would never fail to engage again. 

William Adama also took a little extra time to visit with some of the people who had been temporarily displaced by the emergency evacuation, reassuring them that the Tantalus was completely safe to occupy again. Most of the citizens he encountered expressed their deep gratitude for the life-saving efficiency of the Galactica's crew. A few, however, still preferred to gripe about the sparse accommodations they had been forced to live in for almost 2 days while on board Galactica. One man even went so far as to complain about the fact that some "escaped medical patient" was the best that Galactica could provide to look after them. William knew immediately that this was the belligerent who had given the crew such a hard time until Lee had shamed him into shutting up. Glaring at the man, William growled, "My son has put his life on the line literally _hundreds_ of times since the Holocaust to protect your sorry ass! If he's not good enough for you... maybe we'll leave you behind with the next jump and you can fend off the Cylons all by yourself you ungrateful little shit!"

By the time William's tirade was done, the man had shrunken backwards and was looking truly frightened. William knew he had an imposing voice when he chose to use it and he'd been told that his glare could melt a glacier. For just a moment he regretted not dealing with the man more diplomatically, then he discarded that notion. In spite of the President's joke, William had no intention of running for election, and the twit had deserved it. After all that Lee had done for the fleet, it just infuriated William to hear some ignorant dolt talking about his son in such a dismissive, condescending manner. That dork owed Lee a lot more than respect and gratitude; he owed Lee his life.

Still fuming, William wound his way through the hallways, intending to head back to the docked Raptor and return to Galactica. He clenched his hands. He grumbled low under his breath, "To think that it's because of votes... from people_ like that_... that my son nearly died..."

"Commander Adama?"

William stopped and pressed the wireless earpiece a little closer into his ear before responding into his mike. "Yes Chief?"

"If you're available Commander, could you come down to boarding level 2? We have some new visitors here... and they brought the press."

William squeezed his eyes shut. He really didn't feel up to sucking up for the cameras right now. "Who are these visitors Chief?" he asked grudgingly.

"It's Tom Zarek, Commander," Chief Tyrol replied. "And he's brought a work crew with him from the Astral Queen. They want to _inspect_ the repairs for themselves." Tyrol's tone of voice made it quite obvious that he was offended by the mere implication that the repairs were in need of inspection.

At the mention of Tom Zarek's name, William began to see red. "I'll be right there."

It must have been by intervention of the Gods that William was able to enter the boarding area on level 2 without instantly embarking upon cold-blooded murder. His blood absolutely boiled at the sight of Tom Zarek holding an "impromptu" press conference, wherein he publicly questioned the Galactica's refusal to accept the assistance of maintenance crews offered by the Astral Queen in order to resolve the crisis on the Tantalus in a timelier manner. William really wasn't sure what prevented him from attacking Zarek right on the spot, but somehow a calmer voice penetrated the fury in his brain.

"_No_," William thought. "_Zarek will not go down in history as a martyr. He's a terrorist. A murderer. And soon, everyone will know it._"

William also knew that as soon as the press had noticed his arrival, they would expect him to respond to Tom Zarek's criticisms. He steeled himself and found himself thinking, "_How would Lee respond to all this?_"

Raising his voice to a volume that he knew would not go unnoticed, but keeping his tone remarkably calm, he announced, "Perhaps if Mr. Zarek has questions about the Galactica's handling of the situation, he might consider addressing them to an informed source rather than wasting everyone's time with idle speculation."

Instantly the cameras and microphones of the press turned away from Tom Zarek and were focused upon Commander Adama. Now that he had their undivided attention, William continued, "While I am sure that everyone appreciates the willingness of Mr. Zarek to volunteer his prisoners... there is an old, wise saying that no kitchen was ever built for two cooks. Now anyone with limited culinary abilities, like myself, who has ever tried to lend a hand to their spouse before the big dinner party... and ended up being more of a hindrance than a help... well, you should all know how true that saying really is." Somehow William actually managed to plaster a congenial smile onto his face as he spoke, and there were several appreciative laughs from the reporters.

"Willing hands are one thing," William said. "_Skilled_ hands are another. And a cohesive skilled team of hands is yet another entirely. With the crisis that occurred here, we were not dealing with a simple clog in the bilge. Completing these repairs in a timely and effective manner required expertise and teamwork. Chief Tyrol," William pointed out his Chief to the reporters, "is in fact, the finest mechanic and crew chief in all that is left of the human race... and I'd have said that even before the Holocaust."

Chief Tyrol blinked and tried not to blush as several cameras flashed in his direction. He gave a brief wave of acknowledgment, then tried to shrink into the background.

The commander went on. "Chief Tyrol knows his stuff, and equally important is the fact that he knows his people. He knows everything they can do and how well they can do it. He doesn't have to ask. He doesn't have to wonder. He knows. _He_... is the cook. Now I've got a pair of willing hands too. But if I had turned up here, with power failing and life support systems out... I'd have been about as much help to the Chief as I was to my wife back in the kitchen." Another round of appreciative laughs circulated through the press.

Commander Adama declared, "The best thing for me to do... the best thing for Mr. Zarek to do... was just to get out of the way and let the Chief do his job. Now the fact that you are all standing here _breathing_... is pretty much proof positive that he did his job... and he did it damn well. In fact, this ship is in better shape and is even safer now than it was before the accident. If Mr. Zarek doubts this is true and wants to offer his_ mechanical expertise_ in reviewing the Chief's work... have at it. I have absolutely no doubt what the outcome will be and that you good folks will discover that Mr. Zarek has in fact wasted your valuable time here today." With that, William turned his eyes from the reporters and settled them squarely upon Tom Zarek.

Taking their cue from the commander, the press all turned back toward Tom Zarek for his response. He met their anticipation with a congenial smile. "Well I certainly wouldn't say that this was a waste of anyone's time if it afforded us the honor of finally meeting Chief Tyrol. I assure you Chief; I never intended any insult to the fine work of you and your team. I am, rather, pleased to get this opportunity to thank you in person for all of your fine efforts. Let's give them a hand everyone!" Zarek then led the crowd of reporters in a round of applause for the Chief and his crew.

"Now, Chief," Zarek said, "would you mind giving these fine folks of the press a tour of the damaged areas and perhaps even explain these safety improvements that the commander spoke of?"

The Chief eyed the reporters uncomfortably. "Um..." he glanced toward the commander who nodded to him encouragingly. "Well... sure. I'm not really used to public speaking, but I guess I can show you all what we did. This way." He turned and started leading the small crowd out of the boarding area.

Tom Zarek hung back from the crowd and approached Commander Adama. He tipped his head. "Nicely played," Zarek told him. "You've been learning from the President?"

"From my son," the commander said, his genial mask fading rapidly.

"Of course," Zarek smiled. "And may I say that it is such a relief to hear that he has recovered."

William's eyes slid to the side toward the backs of the retreating group of reporters. No one was looking in their direction any more. His hand suddenly shot out and grabbed Zarek's collar, and he turned, hauling the man around a corner farther out of sight. He shoved Zarek hard against the wall. "Don't even think to toy with me you mother-frakking son-of-a-bitch!" William hissed.

Zarek coughed from the brief compression of his collar against his throat. "What are you talking about?"

William growled, "So help me Zarek... the only reason that you are breathing right now is because Lee is too!"

Zarek brought up both hands between himself and the fuming battlestar commander. "If this all about that hostage situation, let me assure you..."

"Let me assure you," Adama said between gritted teeth, "that if anything... _anything_ happens to Lee again... I will kill you. I don't care if I can prove your involvement or not. I _will_ kill you!"

"My _involvement_?" Zarek asked. "What makes you think I would want any harm to come to your son?"

"He opposes you," Adama said. "He'll oppose your presidential campaign and people will listen to him."

"I don't doubt that," Zarek replied. "But he's hardly my only critic. And even so... that doesn't mean I want him dead. Quite the contrary in fact."

Zarek straightened himself up and faced the commander defiantly. "I do have plans where your son is concerned Commander, but not the way you think. You know what? I'm going to go ahead and tell you. _When_ I win the Presidency, one of my very first acts will be to remove you... and Colonel Tigh... from command. I intend to give your job to your son. I don't want him dead, Commander. I want him _promoted_!"

After a few moments of surprised silence, William laughed out loud. "You don't have any idea just how stupid a move that would be Zarek! If you think that Lee would become your willing pawn, you're _insane_. Lee is young, but he is no fool and the fact is that he's even tougher than me!"

Zarek didn't back down. "I don't want a wimp in charge of our military," he declared. "I just want someone who can be _trusted_! Your son is the one and only officer who has proved himself worthy of the people's trust and truly dedicated to his sworn oath of service. _That's_ why I want him in charge. You, on the other hand, can not be trusted. _You_ are dangerous."

"Yes I am," William said menacingly. He leaned in close to Zarek and spoke so that his breath hissed onto Zarek's face. "I am dangerous. And don't you forget it!" He fixed Zarek in place with a deathly glare for a few more seconds, then walked away.

Zarek stood in place, leaning against the wall for a full minute after Commander Adama had left. He grimaced as his hands actually began to get the shakes. He took several deep breaths, trying to compose himself. After all, there could be cameras waiting nearby. He straightened his collar, picked up his head a little higher, and stepped out from around the corner.

He caught up with the crowd of reporters who were still following Chief Tyrol through the Tantalus. They were examining a section in the walls where the hull had nearly breached, but where now there was not so much as a seam in the paneling. He nodded and smiled to the reporters on the fringe of the crowd until he was able to catch the eye of one of his men who had come aboard with him from the Astral Queen. He beckoned the man to follow him. They stepped casually to the side and around a corner, out of sight.

"What's up boss?" the large man inquired.

"That's what I want you to find out Grimes," Zarek said. "I think this recent situation with Captain Apollo is taking an unfortunate and unexpected turn."

"What do you mean?" Grimes asked.

"I just had a little run-in with Zeus," Zarek said. "And I think that suspicion is somehow turning toward me. I can't have that Grimes."

"Why would they suspect you?"

"I don't care," Zarek said. With an intense look at Grimes, he said, "Whatever is going on over on Galactica, this can _not_ - - come back - - on me. _Do you understand?_"

Grimes nodded. "Yes Sir."

* * *

As soon as Colonel Tigh gave his permission for Commander Adama to re-board Galactica, the commander was met with a round of applause from the deck crew. William wasn't sure what to make of it all, and Tigh offered nothing but a chuckle and headed off on his way. Lee stepped up then, still dressed in his flight suit after flying another extended CAP during the transfer of the passengers back to the Tantalus. Lee gave his father a seriously amused grin. 

"That was quite a broadcast," Lee told the commander.

Adama winced. "That went out live?"

Lee chuckled. "You thought it wouldn't? You should know by now that Zarek loves performing live. I think the deck crew is planning a parade for Tyrol when he gets back."

Adama shook his head wearily. Lee walked with him toward the ladder leading to the catwalk above the hanger deck. "How much of it was broadcast?"

"Your part? All of it. They only cut away to the commentators after the Chief's little tour started getting boring. I almost wish I could have seen Zarek's face."

"And I wish I hadn't." He and Lee walked along the catwalk for several paces before stopping at a point with a broad view of the crews below. It was apparent to William that Lee was trying to work his way around to saying something, so he stopped and waited.

Lee cleared his throat. "Commander, I uh... I overreacted earlier. I was just so worked up over Stinger that just about anything would have set me off. I'm sorry that I blew up like that. But..."

"But what?" Adama asked patiently.

Lee tapped his hand a few times on the catwalk railing. "I just don't understand why you can't be honest with me. Why were you trying to play with my head that way?"

"That wasn't my intention Son," he said. "I just wanted to protect you."

"Protect me from what? The truth? I don't need that kind of protection."

William held up his hand with his thumb and index finger parted by a very small space. "Lee, I came _this_ close to losing you." He dropped his hand and a painful memory played itself out across his face. "When it became apparent that you would soon be ready to return to duty, it suddenly dawned on me... that I had to be ready too. As your commander, I had to make myself ready to give an order, without hesitation, that could send you to your death, if necessary. I thought I knew just how much time I had to make myself ready... but then it snuck up on me. You were given the all-clear two days early... and I wasn't ready. The fact is that I'm still not. If I were to be truly honest, I think I've realized that I will _never_ be ready to see you at risk again. And if I could think up some justifiable means of locking you away somewhere safe, where nothing could happen to you, I would do it... right now... even if it made you hate me."

Lee's eyes were moist by the time his father finished speaking. He swallowed hard. "I understand that Dad," Lee said quietly. "But I really need to know that there is _somebody_ I can trust. Yet no matter where I look... even if it's at you or Kara... I just come up empty. I really don't know who I can count on any more."

It felt like a knife twisting in William's gut to hear his son saying that he no longer trusted him. He took off his glasses and rubbed at his own moist eyes. When Lee was recovering from the poison that nearly killed him, William had had so many intentions of setting things right between them at last. Instead, it was apparent that William had only succeeded in reinforcing that old barrier wall standing between them.

"Here's a newsflash Son," William said. "I don't always make the right choices. But I can't apologize for wanting you to be safe."

Lee didn't sound at all angry when he told his father, "Through my entire childhood, you defined 'manhood' to me as 'being a Viper pilot.' You never stopped drumming into my head that I needed to be independent from you and Mom and stand on my own two feet. You can't just take all that back now."

Adama looked sadly into his son's eyes. "No, I can't."

After a few more seconds, Lee broke eye contact with his father. "I gotta go," he said quietly. "I'm still trying to make heads or tails out of Kara's illegible scrawl."

Adama slipped his glasses back on. "Try not to be too hard on her," he requested. "This ordeal has been very rough on her."

Lee gave a brief laugh. "Here's a newsflash Dad. It's been rough on me too. At least Kara had you for support. I haven't had anybody."

* * *

Lee heard someone approaching him from behind. The footsteps were steady at first, then slowed to a stop, but the person said nothing. A single foot just tapped the floor in place. Lee knew it was Kara. Nobody else would just stop and tap their foot behind him without saying something. She knew he'd heard her and she was waiting for him to drop what he was doing and turn around to give her his undivided attention, but Lee was still in a touchy mood and he didn't want to play games. Besides, it was her fault that he'd spent the last 5 hours shuffling through papers trying to figure out how the heck the squadron had been managed over the last several weeks and he'd just barely gotten a hold on everything. A comprehensive schedule was finally put together and he wanted to get it posted to the whiteboard where the other pilots could see it. 

Kara tried clearing her throat a little to see if Lee would react and at least acknowledge her, but he didn't. His eyes remained firmly fixed on the clipboard in his hands. He looked up directly from the clipboard to the whiteboard on the wall without so much as a passing glance in her direction. He just picked up a pen and started filling in the cleaned up space on the whiteboard.

After a couple of minutes of being ignored, Kara ran out of patience. She typically enjoyed engaging him in a battle of wills, but whenever the game involved waiting, Lee _always_ won. "So... you _are_ still mad at me because I didn't tell you about Stinger's imaginary girlfriend."

Lee shook his head ever so slightly. "Yes," he said. "I'm still mad at you for lying to me and telling me there was no evidence of a plot to kill me."

"Lee... the evidence was so slim at that point... I really didn't think there was a reason to take it seriously."

"Right," Lee scoffed softly. "My near-death wasn't a good enough reason for you. But you knew _I would_ take it seriously, so you hid it from me."

"No," she replied evenly. "I didn't tell you because I was still in the cowardly avoidance stage."

Lee kept his back turned from her and somehow managed to continue writing and talking at the same time. "It was right here in this room Kara. After the cowardly avoidance was over, you looked me straight in the eye and told me there was no evidence against Frosty or Stinger, so the suspicion still fell on me. Remember that?"

"Well, yeah," Kara admitted in a sheepish tone.

"You lied," he said.

After a short guilty pause Kara said, "What I told you was that I didn't know what to think. But... if you're that ticked off about it... you could always steal the Raider, desert the fleet, go hunt up some ancient artifact on Caprica, and blame it all on me."

Lee burst out laughing before he could stop himself. "That's not even funny," he groaned in protest, fighting to compose himself.

Kara swallowed back a smug grin. "Lee, I wasn't lying to you. I just really didn't think there was anything to tell you. I mean it. If I'd thought there was anything to it at all, I would have told you. I was wrong about it, okay? I screwed up, but that shouldn't surprise you. I promise you; I wasn't trying to deceive you."

Lee finally looked over his shoulder and his posture relaxed a little. He nodded. "I overreacted," he reluctantly admitted. "I was just so wracked up over Stinger that I was spoiling for a fight. I guess I still am."

Kara offered him a lopsided grin. "I thought you were going to throttle him right there in the mess."

"I thought about it," Lee said grimly.

"What stopped you?"

"I want to find out who the frak 'they' are."

Kara nodded. "Good point. Hadrian getting any names yet?"

Lee frowned. "Last I heard, Stinger hadn't said a single word since he talked to me. Frosty has completely clammed up too." He turned his attention back toward the whiteboard.

Kara read the board over his shoulder. "Hmm. Nice and neat. Textbook perfect even."

"That's why it works," Lee snickered. "People can read it now. Of course it took me five hours to decipher your notes and figure out what flight assignments you've been giving people."

"It wasn't that bad," Kara protested.

Lee smirked. "For the last ten days Costanza has been officially listed on the rosters as 'Hot God'."

"No way," Kara declared. Lee handed her the clipboard. She looked over her own notes and chuckled. "Oh. That's funny! I'll kill you if you tell him of course. But you know you could have just asked me..."

The ship's general alarm blared in the room. "Secure all quarters! Secure all quarters! Set condition 1!"

"Frak," Kara groaned. "Again? Is Gaeta plotting a course straight for Cylon Central?"

Lee shook his head. "It's not an attack. The call was just to secure quarters, not assume action stations. Something's happened on board the ship!"

* * *

Lee hustled into the CIC and his eyes immediately scanned the DRADIS screens. As he'd thought, there were no enemy contacts being reported. His eyes met with PO Dualla at her console and she pointed in the direction of the damage control station. Lee looked to his right where Dee had indicated and spotted the commander, the XO, and Chief Tyrol gathered in front of the fire alert monitor. He walked up to join them and observed the activities already in progress. 

The chief was on the station's phone, receiving and relaying information between the commander and the fire crews that were on the scene. Lee noted the red lights on the monitor that indicated a fire in the starboard flight pod on the unused museum deck. That puzzled Lee. What was in that area that could catch fire? The monitors were also indicating that the heat of the flames was very intense, which on board a battlestar would typically mean a fuel-induced fire of some kind. That really made no sense. The starboard pod was converted to a museum well over a year ago, and all fuel lines and tanks had been removed. That was one of the primary obstacles to restoring the pod back to its original function. The unlikely nature of a fire breaking out there made Lee feel very uneasy.

The chief pressed the phone to his ear, listening intently. He frowned slightly. "Automatic suppressors aren't working Commander," Tyrol reported. "Some are even spreading the flames across the deck. We're definitely dealing with a liquid fuel source for the fire. We're going to have to switch to using boraton foam."

Lee grimaced as his father nodded his understanding to the chief. No one said the word out loud, but everyone present knew damn well they were dealing with a case of "arson." Lee thought grimly, "_So we _still_ have an enemy among us. Gods, give us a break!_"

Commander Adama asked the chief, "How close is the fire to the power conduits?"

Chief Tyrol relayed the question then waited a few seconds for the response. "They say it's closing to within 5 meters Sir."

Adama shook his head. "That's too close. Tell the fire crews they'll need to use the lights on their suits and shut down power circuits to the entire pod."

As the chief complied with his orders, Colonel Tigh commented, "We won't be able to retract the pod if we have to make a jump."

The commander's expression didn't change. "No choice. If the fire spreads into active power conduits, it could affect systems all over the ship and set off new fires. We'll have to risk it and isolate the pod for now."

Lee hurried over to a phone at a nearby console. "This is the CAG," he said. "Activate standby alert pilots. Prep for launch but hold in the tubes until further notice." When he hung up the phone he saw his father watching him. "Sir, if we can't retract the pod to jump... this could be a precursor to an attack." The commander nodded his assent to Lee's order but made no comment.

Tigh added quietly, "It's got to be a precursor. Otherwise what's the point? There's nothing worth damaging on that deck."

Commander Adama tweaked one eyebrow slightly. "Then why wasn't the fire started _at_ the conduits, guaranteeing that we wouldn't be able to retract?"

Tigh shrugged. "Or why not target a truly critical area of the ship?"

Lee offered an answer to that. "The museum deck is deserted. There's no security there."

Colonel Tigh grumbled. "That deck wasn't deserted earlier. We had nearly 400 visitors camped down there, and some of them weren't too happy about it. You think maybe one of them left a calling card?"

Adama shook his head. "I doubt it. The passengers from the Tantalus were all accounted for and no one was left in there alone. No, this happened well after all the passengers returned to their ship."

"All right," Tigh conceded to the commander's logic. "But then why?"

"A diversion?" Lee suggested.

Tigh nodded his agreement. "We should call Action Stations," he advised.

The commander considered the option but shook his head. "Not yet, but inform all internal security to stay on their toes. If anyone sneezes without a handkerchief, I want to know about it."

Tigh grimaced in amusement. "Lovely thought, but all right." He moved off to a nearby phone to relay the commander's orders.

Lee stood beside his father and watched the monitor board, listening in as the chief continued to direct operations with his teams. After several more minutes, the chief gave his senior officers a thumbs-up.

"We've just about got it Commander," Tyrol reported. "No damage to the conduits and no injuries."

"Good," the commander said. "That's good."

20 minutes after the alert had first been sounded to the ship, the fire was declared fully extinguished. "It's gonna be a helluva mess to clean up with all that foam, but we got it," the chief said grinning from ear to ear.

Lee shifted his attention, and from where he was standing he listened in briefly to the other stations in the CIC. Everything appeared to be perfectly normal. There were no other reports of any suspicious activity. "_I shouldn't gripe_," Lee thought. "_But it just doesn't make sense_."

"Restore power to the pod Chief," Commander Adama ordered. "Then get down there and find out what was burning on that deck." Within another minute, all power circuits were restored and all indicator lights went green across the board.

The commander turned to his XO. "Retract the pods to verify," Adama said.

"Yes Sir."

They all watched the system monitors as both flight pods were retracted into FTL-secure position. Lee almost expected something to happen at any moment, but the systems functioned normally. The commander looked somewhat puzzled when the retraction was confirmed successful. He nodded and then gave the order, "Extend the pods and stand down from alert."

Lee wished he could feel relieved that the crisis was over, but somehow he still felt uneasy. He stepped over and picked up a phone. "This is the CAG. Stand down the non-alert Vipers."

Colonel Tigh looked even more perplexed than Lee felt. "So what the hell was that all about? Have we just got some nutso pyro on board? Maybe we really do need to have the whole crew screened by that shrink... except me, of course. "

"We could start with Ellen then," the commander suggested with a very slight grin.

The colonel didn't look very amused. His only reply was, "Don't go there Bill."

The commander didn't pursue the subject further, but the look on his face left little doubt about his feelings concerning Saul Tigh's controlling, boozing, and infamously unfaithful wife. Lee also held his tongue, but he agreed with his father that if anyone on the ship was in dire need of psychiatric intervention it was probably Ellen Tigh... or the unfortunate husband that she somehow kept pinned under her thumb. Why Saul tolerated that woman was something that Lee could not understand.

Frowning in irritation at the looks he was receiving from both Adamas, Colonel Tigh grabbed for the ringing phone at the central CIC console. "This is the XO." He then extended the handset toward the commander. "The Master-At-Arms for you, Commander."

Commander Adama took the phone. "This is the Commander. Go ahead Sergeant."

Deliberately turning his attention from the XO's glowering face toward his father, Lee watched the commander's expression suddenly change to a deep scowl. Something tightened in Lee's gut. The fire _was_ a diversion. He felt sure of it.

"I'll be right down," Adama said grimly and hung up the phone.

"What happened?" Lee and Colonel Tigh inquired simultaneously.

Very darkly, William Adama replied, "Frosty and Stinger are dead."

* * *

Coming Next - The conclusion. 


	19. Chapter 19 Conclusion

**Chapter 19**

Gaius Baltar rolled his eyes when the phone rang in his lab. First the damn alert had been declared, forcing Gaius to halt his work and lock down the lab. Then just as the alert was cancelled, the bloody phone started ringing. "How do they expect me to get any work done around here?" he griped. He snatched up the handset and in a mockingly chipper voice, he said, "You have reached the laboratory of Doctor Gaius Baltar. The doctor is very busy right now and likely to remain so for the next 60 years. So if this is an emergency, speak up now. If not, hang up."

Gaius listened to the voice on the other end of the line and after just a few seconds he winced sharply. "Commander Adama! Yes, of course I always have time for you. How may I be of service this afternoon?"

"_Careful Gaius_," a dulcet-toned woman's voice whispered into his ear.

"The brig?" Gaius asked into the phone. "You um... you need me to report to the brig? Might I ask why?"

"_Maybe he wants to lock you up for attempted murder, but that's just a thought._"

Ignoring the woman's voice, and the warm brush of her breath against the back of his neck, Baltar replied, "Secrecy... yes, or course. I understand. I'll be right there."

"_Trouble Gaius?_"

Gaius cleared his throat nervously, trying not to overreact. "Trouble? How could there be?"

"_Oh, I don't know. Somebody suspects something, perhaps?_"

His eyes shifted toward the door, half-expecting to see a squad of marines arriving to arrest him, but there was none. "The commander called... and _asked_ me to come down to the brig. He doesn't suspect anything. He just wants my expertise. That's all. Perhaps Frosty is being difficult and they want to schedule him for a lobotomy. I am the Cylon expert, after all."

"_Yes you are. Nobody knows more about the Cylons than you. If only they knew how much you knew._"

He tried to ignore the tickle of a woman's fingertips running along his jaw as he removed his lab coat. As though to convince himself, he said, "They only want my expertise, nothing more. Nothing to worry about. Nothing at all."

As he crossed the threshold of his lab and started to wind his way toward the brig, he heard the whisper again, "_Careful, Gaius_."

"There's nothing to worry about. There's nothing to worry about," he muttered to himself. When he'd first come aboard Galactica, the crew had given him odd looks when they passed him in the hallways talking to himself. Now, months later, they didn't even bother to notice. Everyone just chalked it up to the madness of genius.

Gaius had just about talked himself into feeling completely confident and safe again when he stepped into view of the main entrance to the brig... and saw Captain Lee Adama stalking straight towards him. Gaius stopped dead in his tracks. The captain had full-on, fire-breathing, murderous intent flaming behind his eyes. "_I'm dead,_" Gaius thought, recoiling a few steps from the infuriated warrior. Then the captain shouldered his way past Gaius and continued down the hallway.

Baltar took a deep, long breath and gathered himself together, reassured once again that he had nothing to worry about. After all, the enraged captain had utterly ignored him. He continued forward into the brig. He suddenly realized that what he was observing was a crime scene. Two corpses were being zipped into body bags. He only briefly glimpsed their faces.

"Frosty and Stinger?" he asked out loud in surprise.

"_Be careful, Gaius._"

At the sound of Baltar's voice, Commander Adama turned away from Sergeant Hadrian and faced the doctor. He looked almost as angry as the younger Adama had, but not quite... thank goodness. "Wh-what happened here Commander? How did they die?"

"Most likely it was andropine poisoning," the commander said gruffly. "The autopsy will confirm that."

"A-andropine?" Gaius' eyes flashed toward a paramedic inside one of the holding cells who was in the process of dropping a Red Needle into a small plastic bag. The safety cap on the Needle was gone, exposing the lethal point. A second Red Needle was already in the bag and it too had the needle point exposed. "Oh... I see. Two um... _two_ Red Needles. Interesting. That's very interesting."

"_It's a warning._"

"A warning?" he asked.

"Excuse me?" the commander inquired.

"A warning," Baltar quickly repeated. "Are you going to issue a warning to the crew... about this?"

The commander's scowl deepened. "The crew will be informed to whatever extent I deem appropriate, but that's not your concern. You're the resident Cylon expert. I want you to assist Doctor Cottle with the autopsy on Lieutenant Mullins."

"_Somebody knows, Gaius._"

Baltar blinked, trying to ignore the comment that had been whispered into his ear. "Yes, of course," the doctor replied to the commander. "Though if you recall, the autopsy on the Leoben model revealed very little."

"Do it anyway," the commander said crossly. "And you are not to discuss this matter with anyone."

Baltar nodded vigorously. "Of course, of course. Not a word. I completely understand. I will coordinate with Doctor Cottle."

The commander didn't bother dismissing the doctor. He just turned his attention elsewhere. Baltar watched for a few more seconds while the body bags were hoisted onto gurneys for transport to the morgue, then he stepped as inconspicuously from the brig as possible. Once he was clear of the investigating crowd he hurried straight back to his lab. Arriving at the lab, he pulled the hatch shut from the inside and spun the lock. No interruptions. He stood by the door for a few seconds, gathering himself. Then he walked to the far end of his lab and pulled open a drawer. Inside were boxes of sterile blood collection tubes and needles... and that was all. He looked around inside the drawer. He pulled on the drawer to make sure it was open as far as it would go and shuffled the contents around inside.

"_Looking for something Gaius?_"

Gaius straightened up, looking worried. "They're missing. I'm positive this is where I put them... but now they're missing."

"_Missing? No, I don't think so. I think you know precisely where those two Red Needles are right now. Labeled... as... evidence._"

"Yes," he said quietly. "Someone... took them... and..." Then the concern vanished from his face and he gradually began to smile. "Yes," he said brightly.

"_Why are you smiling? Somebody knows Gaius!_"

"No no," he said. "At most... somebody may _suspect_. That's all." Baltar was grinning quite contentedly now. "Whether or not they intended it... someone has just done me quite a favor. I only ever dealt with Frosty and he is no longer even a _potential_ liability, not that he was ever much of a threat to begin with."

"_What if he talked before he died?_"

"What if he did?" Baltar shrugged casually. "No one is going to believe the word of a Cylon over that of the Vice President."

"_It's a good thing he turned out to be a Cylon._"

"Yes, isn't it?" Baltar grinned smugly. "But even if he did manage to be a nuisance at the end and raise a few suspicions with whoever killed him, that person can't very well announce those suspicious without raising a red flag over themselves, now can they? And now thanks to them, I am completely in the clear."

"_What about the Holt woman on the Geminon Traveler?_"

Baltar tossed a dismissive hand. "What about her? All she knows is that she talked to someone who said his name was Stinger."

The woman's voice became less seductive and sterner. "_I still think you need to be careful Gaius. After all, you're apparently not the only one on board who's willing to be a little ruthless_."

* * *

"Dead?" Laura Roslin asked incredulously. "Both of them?" 

"Yes," William Adama grimly replied.

Laura raised her eyes to the ceiling of the commander's quarters and shook her head. "When? When did this happen? _How_ did this happen?"

William finished pouring himself a glass of water. "It was during the fire in the starboard pod while the ship was under Condition One status. The brig was in lockdown, but due to our extreme shortage of personnel the marine guards now have to assume alternate stations when we're on alert. The prisoners weren't discovered to be dead until after I declared a stand down. It... appears to have been suicide."

Laura grimaced sharply. "Let me guess. Red Needles." It wasn't even a question.

Adama gave the President an ironic smirk. "That's right," he said.

She ran her hands over her face and groaned. "So how did it happen? Where did the needles come from?"

The commander answered, "Their Needles came up missing from their Vipers a few days ago. It's possible they've had them in their possession all along. The Needles are small enough that they're very easy to conceal."

Laura looked at the commander knowingly. "You don't really buy into that, do you?"

Adama shook his head. "No, I don't." He held out an extra glass of water toward Laura. She hadn't asked for one, but she accepted it with a polite smile.

Laura took a drink, then questioned the commander, "And of course there are no surveillance cameras to tell us if someone entered the brig during that time?" It wasn't really a question. Laura knew the answer. She'd spent many hours in the brig herself.

Adama's voice held just a hint of defensiveness when he replied, "That kind of system would require equipment to be networked. We have no networks on Galactica."

"I know," she said evenly. "But it appears that someone has exploited that fact for their own ill purposes, and you can bet it will happen again."

The commander told the President sternly, "Need I remind you that the absence of networks on this ship is the reason that we are all still breathing?"

"You needn't remind me Commander," Roslin declared. "I am very aware of that fact. I'm merely saying that if they find a way to get away with it once... they'll do it twice. This is, after all, the second time this kind of thing has happened."

"Second time?"

"Yes," Laura stressed. "This is the second time that an alleged assassin with potential ties to Tom Zarek has turned up dead... _of apparent suicide_... while in military custody... before Zarek could be positively implicated. First Valance..."

"And now Karo and Mullins," Adama admitted reluctantly.

"Zarek has an insider amongst your people," Roslin said bluntly.

"Not just an insider," Adama said darkly. "A murderer." He scowled and took a long drink, almost draining his glass.

Laura shifted her hand back and forth, swirling the water around inside her own glass. She pondered out loud, "Do you think Captain Apollo is still in danger?"

"I wish I knew," Adama said, setting his glass down on the sofa table. "Zarek went to a lot of trouble to make it look like suicide, and then to cover his tracks when Lee survived. He has his eyes on the Presidency. If anything happens to Lee now, he couldn't possibly escape being implicated, which is exactly what he doesn't want and why Frosty and Stinger are now dead."

"He won't escape it _this_ time," Roslin said determinedly. "Whether we can press charges or not, there's already enough fodder for rumors and suspicion that could ruin any campaign."

Adama grinned wryly at the President. "Planning your own campaign strategy Madame President?"

Laura smiled back. "_If you only knew_," she thought. "_I probably won't live to see Election Day_." Out loud, she said, "I will not allow that man to be elected President."

Adama offered her a smile. "We're in agreement on that," he said. "_I'll personally kill the son-of-a-bitch first_," he thought.

"How is Apollo handling all this?" she asked.

Adama frowned. "It would be a bit of an understatement to say that he's disappointed. After viewing the crime scene he went and ran 20 laps around the ship like he had a demon on his heels then declared that he needed a workout. I pity anybody who agrees to spar with him this evening."

Laura smiled. "I take it that you're not going to volunteer."

"I'm not crazy. Beside, I hope to have other plans this evening." His expression grew more contemplative and he removed his glasses. "Madame President, I didn't just ask you to come over here so that I could tell you about Mullins and Karo. I certainly didn't want to have that conversation transmitted over the wireless, but I also have ulterior motives."

"All right," Laura said warily. "I'm bracing myself. Go ahead."

"I wanted to thank you," Adama said sincerely. Ignoring the surprise on her face, he told her, "You were the one who took action on Lee's behalf long before anyone else. It was your suspicions and instincts that ultimately led us to the perpetrators. And if you hadn't invited Lee to Colonial One... well he wouldn't have asked for _my_ help and that would have put him right back into immediate contact with Mullins and Karo before we were aware of the danger and before Lee was even capable of defending himself. The fact is that you may very well have saved his life. I will always owe you for that. Thank you."

Laura bit back a smile. "Not to sound petulant, but the fact is that I didn't do it for you."

"I know," he said. "But I'm still grateful."

She inclined her head graciously. "You're welcome." She giggled over how awkwardly those words were spoken. Then she gave him a knowing look. "You really don't have any need to feel threatened you know."

"Threatened?"

She nodded. "You are his father, the only one he'll ever have. And although he misses his mother deeply, he knows I'm not her, and I'm not trying to replace her. I would fail miserably if I did. He has no illusions about who I am."

William asked very thoughtfully, "Has Lee spoken to you about her?"

"Some, yes."

William lowered his head and rubbed at his eyes. "Then apparently you're ahead of me in that matter as well."

"That's easily remedied, you know."

Adama chuckled. "You're not the first person who's told me that recently, but 'easy' has never been a word that could describe my relationship with Lee."

Roslin grinned broadly, remembering some wise advice that she herself had received not long ago. "Maybe you just need more practice," she suggested. "He does love you. If you'd seen him in those hours after you were shot, you wouldn't have any doubt about that. But I think he's just as uncertain about how to communicate with you as you are with him."

William settled his glasses back into place. "Practice huh?"

"Sometimes it does make perfect."

After a brief hesitation, William asked, "And what about us?"

"Us?" she asked uncertainly.

"We have a bit of a history with poor communication ourselves," he said. Laura responded with an agreeable smirk, so Adama asked her, "Would you care to dine with me here this evening?"

"Dinner?" She appeared at first surprised, then amused. "Hmm. Well, the last time I had dinner here with you it was an _interesting_ evening."

William laughed. "Ellen is not invited this time."

"Just the two of us?"

"That's right."

"Do you think we can manage it without bloodshed?"

"Practice makes perfect."

* * *

Kara walked into the gymnasium and shook her head. "Lee... for crying out loud, give it a rest!" 

Lee looked exhausted and he was dripping with sweat from head to toe, yet he didn't show any sign of slowing down. He threw another a hard right hand squarely into the punching bag, keeping it swinging on the chain. Kara boldly walked up and grabbed the bag, stopping its motion.

"Do you have any idea how long you've been at this?" she asked him.

"Not long enough," he growled, delivering another solid right hook.

"Take a break Lee," she told him. "At least get some dinner."

"Not hungry," he panted, throwing another series of punches.

Kara flinched from the impact of the bag. "You have to be," she told him. "You've burned at least a week's worth of calories since you came in here."

Lee took only a brief pause to shake the sweat out of his eyes. "I'd still rather hit something than eat."

Kara jerked back from another blow against the bag. She tried to reason with him. "You could keep hitting even harder and longer if you were stop and eat for a few minutes." By way of response, Lee hauled off and socked the bag with a punch that forced Kara to let go and jump out of the way. "Okay... then again, if you hit any harder you could damage the bulkhead."

Lee followed up that last punch with a series of left jabs. After the third jab he winced and stepped back, shaking his left hand. Cottle had reluctantly cleared Lee for flight, but the fact was the Lee's hand was still not fully healed and after all the abuse with the punching bag his hand was really getting sore.

His reaction did not escape Kara's notice. "If you keep this up, you're going drop yourself right back to light-duty, Lee."

"Why should that bother you?" Lee growled. "I could still do the paperwork."

Kara smirked. "And what about the flight coverage, you big dipstick? No wait... that's not right. My mistake. You're not a dipstick. You're a dorkweed who_ has_ a big dipstick."

Lee had been just about to throw another punch, but balked and choked on a laugh instead. "Don't do that Kara," he groaned.

"Don't do what?" she asked innocently, knowing full well she was getting through to him now.

"Don't make me laugh," he said through gritted teeth. "I don't want to laugh right now. I'm too frakking mad."

"Well I don't want you messing up your hand," she told him sternly. "So don't make me haul out the water hose mister! I'll find myself a high-powered nozzle and I know how to use it!"

His momentum hopelessly lost now, Lee threw up his hands in surrender. With a groan he slumped down onto a weight bench and sat forward with his elbows resting on his knees. Kara grabbed his towel from the corner of the room and walked over to him. She dropped the towel over his head and then she sat down on the bench next to him. Lee had to shrug the towel out of the way since his hands were still bound up in his boxing gloves.

Kara nudged him in the ribs with her elbow. "If you're still feeling wound up after dinner, I'll chase your ass around the ship a few times. How's that?"

Lee was still getting his breath back when he replied, "I do know you're only offering because you missed your morning run the last two days. Besides, I'm in the mood to fight, not run."

Kara grinned. "I heard you already went 10 laps."

"Twenty," he corrected her. "And it didn't help."

"Well apparently the boxing gloves haven't quite done the job either," she teased.

"Only because I have to use a punching bag instead of a person," he grumbled. "Of course if you're willing to volunteer on that...?"

She gave the pretense of thinking it over. "Hmmm. Tempting... but nah. I'm more of a bare-knuckles kind of fighter myself. But if you _really_ want me to... I'll let you tackle me after another ten laps."

Lee tweaked an eyebrow and looked at her sideways. "Once again... most women would mean that as an offer of sex, but from you I know it means a black eye."

Kara shrugged. "I'll go easy on you."

"You'll go easy on me?"

"It's not like your tackling skills are anything to be intimidated about," she teased with a wink. Kara knew that wasn't really true. Lee had played a mean game of groundball during his school days.

Lee just shook his head. Then he caught the end of his glove laces between his teeth and pulled it loose enough to work open the ties. He chuckled. "Zak never told you, did he?"

"Told me what?"

"Do you remember when he came back from mid-term break during his second year... hobbling with a bad back?"

Kara thought back, then nodded. "Yeah. He said he took a tumble while he was trail-biking."

"He was lyin' his little ass off," Lee said smugly.

"Oh?" Kara was intrigued now. "How's that?"

Lee pulled off one glove and started working on the other. "I body slammed the little bugger," Lee chuckled. "But he had it coming."

Kara waited for Lee to for say more, but when he didn't, she poked him in the ribs. "Well...? Spill it Adama! What happened?"

Lee pulled off his other glove and stood up. "You know, you're right. I am hungry," he said, deliberately avoiding her question.

"Hey!" she protested. "No way are you getting off without telling me what happened! You've got five minutes to shower and not a second more!"

Half an hour later, Kara and Lee were seated in a corner in the officer's mess picking at their food between fits of laughter. Kara had been relentless in her pursuit of this story about brotherly body-slams, so Lee finally had no choice other than to confess the whole tale.

"I should never have mentioned this," Lee grumbled, swallowing a quick bite.

"Too late now," Kara ribbed him. "So you're hiding behind the planter, out of sight and waiting for the taxi... and...?"

"And... the taxi finally pulls up and he stops... right... under... the streetlight."

Kara giggled. "Naturally."

"So, to get to the cab, I have to step out... right... under... the streetlight. The driver takes one look at me and I swear he just about ran for his life."

Kara leered at Lee. "Obviously this driver was a man."

Lee said, "I had to beg him not to just drive off and leave me. 'No, no please! I'm not a lunatic! I just have a very annoying brother with a twisted sense of humor! We were at the beach and he swiped my clothes and drove off. It's just a stupid prank!'"

Kara was grinning from ear to ear. "I can't believe Zak never told me about this one."

Lee took another quick bite. "So I at least persuade the guy that I'm not dangerous, all right? And I show him that I do have my wallet even if Zak did take _everything_ else. So, I _can_ pay the cab fare. You'd think that's all the driver would care about, right?" Lee frowned dramatically and shook his head.

Kara took a bite out of a cold biscuit, not even noticing anymore that it was tasteless. This story was just too damn amusing. "So, what was his problem?"

Lee sighed. "He looks at me and shakes his head. And in this very thick Southern-Virgon accent, he says, '_No, no, no! No naked people in cab!_'"

Lee's impression of the cab driver's accent cracked Kara up. "Oh Gods!"

"So I start begging with the guy again, telling him, 'Please! My brother left me stranded like this. I have no other way to get home. I'll pay you extra!' And he looks at me like he's just about to refuse, but instead he says, '_Okay but you ride in trunk!_'"

Kara's eyes bugged and she cracked up again. "In the trunk? Oh Lords Lee, you didn't!"

Lee rolled his eyes.

"You did!"

Lee fixed Kara with a humorous gaze. "I did mention earlier what happens after 4 or 5 Trojan Shooters, didn't I? You get very..."

"Stupid," she finished for him.

"Exactly!" Lee confirmed. "So... I climbed into the trunk. Of course it didn't occur to me until I was in there and he slammed the lid shut on me that not only are there no safety belts in the trunk, there isn't any cushioning either. So I'm trying to hold on for dear life inside the trunk of this careening taxi cab, in the middle of the night, stark naked... and there isn't anything to hold on to!"

Kara was laughing so hard now she could barely breathe. "Oh my Gods, Lee!"

"So the cab finally comes to a stop and I hear the engine shut off. And I'm thinking, 'Well I survived, but now I have to get into the house before the neighbors call the police.' Fortunately, I had three factors working in my favor. First, it was the middle of the night, so nobody was watching."

"What a shame," Kara teased.

"Second, I knew damn well Zak was waiting up to witness the final stages of this humiliation. And third... I'm a very fast runner."

Kara's sides were absolutely hurting by now. She didn't know how much more of this she could take.

"So I pay the driver... _double_ his fare... climb out of the trunk... and book it for the door! I'm about half way up the walkway when the front door flies open... and there's Zak... with a camera."

Kara gaped in disbelief. "Zak even had photographic evidence of this? And he never told me!"

"I didn't even break stride," Lee told her. "I just plowed through the door and smashed the little bugger right to the ground!" Lee slapped his hand against the tabletop in demonstration of the impact. "My coach would have been so proud! And that is why the twit still couldn't walk fully upright when he got back to school 3 days later."

When Kara could finally catch her breath again she gave Lee a sly wink. "And I bet you've never gone skinny dipping again, have you?"

Lee chuckled, blushing just slightly. "No I haven't," he admitted.

"And the Trojan Shooters?"

"Never more than two," Lee grinned.

Kara smirked. "We'll see about that... now that I know exactly how many it takes to get you to ditch your clothes."

Lee raised one eyebrow. "Kara... we're roommates. You see me without my clothes all the time."

"But I've never seen you both naked _and_ stupid at the same time. Apparently it's quite a party." Kara was getting a huge kick out of the blush that still lingered on Lee's cheeks. She shoved her dinner tray aside and rested her elbows on the table with her chin on one hand. "I just can't believe that Zak never told me about this. I understand _you_ not advertising it, but Zak? I would have thought he'd be bragging about it at every opportunity."

Lee shrugged and leaned his own arms on the table. "Maybe he didn't want to give you ideas. Maybe he hoped to try pulling it on you someday."

She squinted her eyes. "He wouldn't have dared. He knew damn well I would have killed him."

After a few seconds, Kara's words came back at her and she flinched. All traces of amusement vanished from her face. "Frak," she winced, turning her head away from Lee.

"Kara, don't do that," Lee said gently.

"Nobody ruins a fun conversation like I do," she scoffed at herself.

"You didn't ruin anything," Lee told her.

Kara visibly struggled with her guilt for several more seconds before she was able to face Lee again. "Lee... why did you forgive me?" she asked quietly.

"Which time?" he teased.

"You know what I mean," she said. "When I finally confessed to you about Zak... why did you forgive me? You were furious at your father for _two frakking years_!"

"Well, you did save my life a few hours later," Lee told her. "That kind of thing can be endearing." His demeanor turned more serious then. "Besides, you _wanted_ to be forgiven for what you did. Dad didn't. He never even acknowledged that he ever made a mistake. It's hard to forgive someone who doesn't want to be."

With a trace of mischief returning to her face, Kara asked, "So I can keep screwing up and as long as I say that I'm sorry, we're okay?"

"Don't push it Thrace," Lee said. A few seconds later he mimicked her voice and said, "I'm trying to do better, Lee. I really am."

Kara chucked her soiled napkin at Lee's face. "Baby steps Adama."

Lee caught the napkin and tossed it right back. "Baby steps," he scoffed. "You're crawling!"

Kara attempted an equally quick turnaround on the napkin, but missed Lee entirely and tagged the person who happened to be walking behind Lee at the wrong moment. Doctor Cottle looked down at his food tray, which now had Kara's dirty napkin draped across the top. She stifled back a burst of laughter. "Sorry Doc," she managed to choke out.

Cottle frowned at her and lifted the napkin up by one corner. "That's all right Lieutenant. I'll just make sure that my hands are extra cold when it's time for your next exam."

"I'll score you another pack of cigarettes, okay?" she offered.

Cottle cleared his throat. "That won't be necessary. Like I told you before, I've had to give them up."

Kara looked surprised. "But... wait... I just gave you a whole case about a week ago. You can't possibly have gone through them all already."

"No," Cottle said wistfully.

"Then why have you given them up?" Kara asked.

"Because I don't enjoy kissing an ashtray," Doctor Marsh declared stepping up beside Doctor Cottle with her own food tray in hand. "Hello Lee," she said sweetly.

"Uh... Hello Doctor," Lee replied. He struggled to keep the astonishment from his face but didn't have much luck.

"Well, you kids have fun," Doctor Marsh said to Lee and Kara, sounding like a grandmother who was sending the children off to the playground. Then she fixed Doctor Cottle with direct gaze and inclined her head toward an empty table. "This way, Hot Stuff." Cottle offered the pilots a devilish grin and followed after her.

Lee turned back toward Kara, straining to keep his mouth closed against an outburst of hilarity. It took several seconds before he had mastered control of himself. "Oh... my... Gods," he whispered.

Kara too was fighting to stifle down her reaction. "Well well well. Bet you didn't know you were a matchmaker, did you? I wonder what their kids will be like."

Lee choked back his laugh and had to hold his breath. He swallowed hard. "We have to get out of here or I'm going to lose it," he croaked.

Even after they'd left the officer's mess Lee was still shaking his head in amused disbelief. Doctor Cottle and Doctor Marsh. What a pairing! It was both perfect... and frightening. Then his eyes fell on Kara walking beside him and he felt that familiar and confusing flutter in his stomach. Yep. Both perfect and frightening... but more important was that in this case it was completely impossible.

The military rules governing fraternization forbade anything more than a congenial working relationship between them. Lee was Kara's boss and any form of relationship that might compromise or even give the appearance of compromising his impartiality on the job was a violation of military law. The closeness of their friendship was already pushing the legal boundaries. So, in spite of the tug upon his heart that Lee couldn't deny he sometimes felt in her presence, there could not be anything more between them than what they already had.

Perhaps the rules would be changed one day, or perhaps humanity would succeed in evading the Cylons and one or both of them might be able to separate from the military, making the fraternization rules irrelevant. Then perhaps...? Lee shook that thought from his mind, however, for he knew it to be a waste of time. Whatever thoughts he might have along those lines, he knew that Kara did not share them. She had proved that fact to him back on Colonial Day. Lee scoffed at himself silently, recalling his arrogance that evening, when he'd thought for a short while that she might have "cleaned up" just for him. She had looked absolutely drop-dead gorgeous in that figure-hugging blue dress, and the few minutes that he'd spent with her on the dance floor were damn near intoxicating. But then, Doctor Gaius Baltar had smoothly cut in and Kara had spent the rest of the night dancing, drinking, partying... and finally frakking... with the Vice President.

Lee hadn't been prepared at all for the surge of jealousy he'd felt the next day when he figured out where she'd spent the night. But he knew now that he was out of line when he'd angrily confronted her about it. She had always been a "free" spirit and he knew damn well she'd left a long trail of casual lovers in her wake over the years. If Lee had been foolish enough to let himself think that she was going to change her ways just for him, that was his own damn fault, not hers. She could drink and frak with whomever she wanted. Kara had never made him any promises, nor even implied that she might. He had no claim on her heart. He knew he never would. She just didn't seem him that way. The only man who had ever claimed her heart was Zak... and Lee knew he was nothing like his younger brother.

"So have you made up your mind?" Kara asked him.

"Huh?" Lee was taken off guard by her question.

"Well, is it going to be 10 laps... or fisticuffs?" she asked.

Lee smiled, abandoning his pointless musings for the reality of the moment. "How about neither?"

"Not in a mood to fight any more?" she teased him.

"Not any more," he said quietly. Of course he couldn't tell her what activity was actually occupying his thoughts at the moment. He wasn't looking to acquire a black eye and that would have been the inevitable outcome. As a safer alternative, he suggested, "How about a card game in the rec room?"

Kara snickered. "You know I haven't played in a while... not since the night you were attacked."

"Neither have I."

"Sounds like we're both due then, huh?"

"Yeah... only don't expect me take it easy on you this time."

"Oh, bring it on!"

Lee managed to do just slightly better than break even, while Kara dramatically enlarged her holdings at the expense of the other players. It was almost 23:00 hours when he declared that he was done for the night. He'd intended to be turned in to his rack by that time, but he was thoroughly enjoying the evening in spite of how gods-awfully the day had started.

"That's all for me tonight," he told the group, gathering his gambling stake from the table.

"You're not going to leave your money behind this time Captain?" Helo joked.

Lee gave him a playfully sour eye. "No, and I'll even be taking some of yours with me. Goodnight everybody."

Kara suddenly turned it in too. "Well seeing as how the only competitive stake at the table is now leaving, I guess that ends the night for me too." They left the rec room together and wound around through the hallways toward officers' quarters.

"You didn't have to call it a night just because I did," Lee told her.

Kara shrugged. "With what little they had left it wouldn't have been much of a game. Besides, I hear the CAG is a real stickler for being on time at roll-call and I don't want to piss him off."

As they approached quarters, Lee asked her, "And it wouldn't have anything to do with not wanting to head back to quarters alone would it?"

"Why would that be a problem?" she asked flatly.

"You haven't slept in your own rack in two weeks, Kara." He gently nudged her arm. "You don't have to go back there tonight if you don't want to."

Kara stopped walking, her face looking pensive. "Are you sleeping in your own rack tonight?"

Lee nodded. "I'm going to try."

Kara nodded her own head. "Okay. Then I will too."

Kara did hang back a little when they reached the hatch to their shared room. She let Lee pull the hatch open and followed him inside. The room felt unnaturally quiet. With the loss of Frosty and Stinger, all of their roommates were gone. Kara looked around at all of the empty racks. "You know," she said quietly, "this room is going to get a reputation for being cursed. We're the only ones quartered in here who haven't died."

"Actually, _you're_ the only one," Lee said, sounding remarkably glib.

Kara turned haunted eyes toward Lee. "Frak," she breathed. "That's just too damn creepy."

"Kara, you don't have to stay in here," Lee said gently. "In fact, maybe you shouldn't."

"Because if I stay in here it'll be my turn to die next?" She laughed in fear-tinged giddiness.

"No, because just being in here makes you think like that." He put a hand on her shoulder. "Come on. Let's just move you down to Helo's room. They're used to having you there anyway."

"No," she said, shaking her head. "I'll be fine Lee. Besides I can't let you have a room all to yourself. You'll start getting spoiled."

She turned away from Lee and yanked open her locker door. Kara did still feel uneasy, but she was tired of cowering like a little girl from the imaginary monsters under her bed. She wasn't going to run away again. If Lee could face what happened in here, then so could she. "_Except he doesn't even remember it and I do_," she thought moodily. She heard him pull open his own locker and frowned, wishing that he was having just a little bit harder of a time with it all than he was.

"Oh frak!" she heard him gasp.

Kara turned around just in time to see the color drain out of Lee's face. He looked like he was having trouble breathing. "Lee?" She dodged around the table at the center of the room and grabbed for his arm. He was shaking. "Sit down," she urged him, convinced that he was about to faint. Hanging on to him with one hand she pulled a chair out from the table with the other. He dropped into it heavily and rested his head in his hands.

"Lee? Talk to me right now or I'm calling for a medic," she told him. When he didn't say anything she started to bolt for the door and the nearest phone, but he grabbed her hand before she could move away.

"N-no, don't," he whispered. "I'm okay."

"Like hell you are," she said.

"I'm okay," he insisted more strongly. "I'm just... I remember."

Kara wasn't sure whether to smile or cry at that news. "All of it?" she asked, squeezing his hand.

He nodded. In a shaky voice, he told her, "Everything. It just all came back."

ooooooooooooooooooo

_Lee found his way back to his quarters more by instinct than intent. He couldn't remember ever feeling more drained in his life. There were times when he'd been more physically exhausted, but this was just as much a mental weariness as a bodily on. Dad would be back on the job in the morning, thank the Lords. Lee could finally shrug off those duties at least. He could go back to being just the CAG._

"_Yeah, right," Lee grumbled wearily. "That'll last just until someone gets fed up with the Colonel again and brings their crap to me instead. I give it two weeks... _one_, if Ellen gets her hands on another bottle of ambrosia."_

_Approaching his quarters, he rubbed his face tiredly and yawned. Six whole hours of sleep tonight! Gods, he was looking forward to that! He hadn't slept that long since... well, since before Kara deserted the fleet and his father had been shot. It almost seemed like a lifetime ago. So much had changed since then. _Everything _had changed._

_Lee pulled open the hatch and stepped inside. Frosty and Stinger were still up, seated at the center table playing a game of cards. That surprised Lee. He knew they had the early shift and had expected to see them already asleep. They exchanged polite smiles with him when he walked inside, then they turned back to their game. Lee walked over to his locker._

_Behind Lee, Frosty asked him, "Is the party in the rec room breaking up Captain?"_

_Lee began unbuttoning his shirt, fumbling a bit in his weariness. "Only for me fellas. I just hit my limits. Everybody else is still going strong."_

"_So... you came back _alone_? No one else is turning in yet?"_

"_Just me," Lee said. "Starbuck still has a few more victims to clean out before she's done." He heard the scrape of a chair on the floor behind him._

"_Check the door Lou," Lee heard Frosty say._

"_What?_ Now_?" Stinger asked._

"_Now," Frosty said in a sterner tone._

"_But... Frosty..." Stinger said, sounding strangely nervous._

"_Lou, we talked about this," Frosty was saying. "Many times."_

"_I know but... frak it."_

_Lee heard another chair scrape on the floor. He knew his roommates were up and moving around, but he paid them no attention. He shrugged out of his sleeves and reached into his locker for a hanger._

"_It's... it's all clear," Stinger said._

"_Close it," Frosty said._

_Lee heard the hatch clanging shut but didn't make any note of it._

"_Frosty..." Stinger said anxiously. "Oh, frak."_

"_Captain?" Frosty spoke to Lee while standing just on the other side of his locker door._

_Lee looked over at the big pilot. "What's up?" he asked._

"_It's been an honor Sir," Frosty said. "I'm sorry it had to be this way. I truly am."_

_Confused, Lee asked, "What are you talking about?"_

"_Oh frak," Stinger said again, approaching Lee from the other side._

"_It's nothing personal, Captain," Frosty told him. "I just wanted you to know that."_

"_What?" Lee asked, totally bewildered._

_Frosty reached out and very deliberately closed Lee's locker door. Then with a pained, but friendly smile, he grabbed for Lee's right arm. It took barely a second. One of Frosty's large hands closed around Lee's right wrist, pulling his arm just slightly toward the big pilot while his other hand jabbed at Lee's forearm. Lee felt a sharp sting and reflexively pulled his arm back. Frosty released him immediately._

"_What are you doing?" Lee asked, mystified over Frosty's odd behavior._

"_Oh frak... frak, frak!" Stinger was whining._

_Then Lee felt a chill spreading through his arm. It started as an odd tingling that went suddenly cold. He looked at his arm where he'd felt the sting and didn't see anything, but he knew he had been jabbed with something sharp. The chill spread with stunning swiftness and within seconds Lee felt his throat constricting and he couldn't catch his breath._

"_What... what did you do to me?" he asked Frosty._

_Frosty actually stepped forward with his arms outstretched, as though to embrace Lee. "Don't fight it Captain. It'll be over soon."_

_Lee felt a sudden panic envelope him and he tried to flee from Frosty, but his legs were already shaking. He barely managed to turn around before his knees were buckling. Frosty's massive arms caught him up around the chest, pinning Lee's arms to his sides. Lee tried to struggle, but he could barely even breathe. His efforts were easily overcome by the larger man constraining him. He looked up and saw Stinger standing there, watching. Stinger's face was distraught, but he just stood there._

"_Sting..." was all that Lee was able to choke out. His head was reeling. He thrashed desperately to break Frosty's hold, but it was useless. His legs gave way. His mind was screaming, but his limbs and voice would not respond. He could feel his body shutting down with every second that ticked by. He saw Stinger's pained face hovering in front of him and heard Frosty's voice in his ear._

"_Just let go Captain. Go easy. Just go easy. It won't be long now."_

_Lee's vision began to gray out. He was cold all over now. Completely cold. _

ooooooooooooooooo

Lee lifted his head and found himself looking straight into Kara's hazel-brown eyes. He hadn't noticed when she had knelt down beside him, but she was still holding his hand. Her other hand was resting comfortingly on his back. He clutched at her hand.

"I couldn't fight back," he told her in a trembling voice. "I tried, but it all happened _so_ fast."

"I know Lee," Kara said quietly.

"I couldn't even scream," he whispered.

Kara didn't say anything. She just held onto his hand and tried share the moment with him as much as she could.

In the faintest voice Kara had ever heard from Lee, he told her, "Stinger just stood there. He just watched. I tried to beg him to help me, but I couldn't say a word. So, he just watched."

Lee grimaced in pain and tears finally spilled from his eyes. Kara wrapped her arm around his shoulders and hugged him. He gathered himself together after only about a minute and sat upright. He wiped his face clear. "Frakking bastards," Lee said bitterly. "I trusted them. I trusted them both."

"Well," Kara said softly. "They got a taste of their own medicine. As much as we would've liked to get more information first, I'd say they faced fair retribution."

Lee nodded. "But that also means we _still_ have someone on this ship who can't be trusted. Someone who knows the ins and outs around here pretty well. Setting diversionary fires, breaking into the brig, swiping Red Needles..." Lee's voice trailed off.

Kara winced. "Yeah. I kinda let the ball drop on that one. Those two Needles turned up missing days ago, but we didn't bother looking beyond this room. I should have followed up on that. We might have had Zarek by the balls by now."

Lee didn't reply. He had a very odd look on his face. He stood up from his chair suddenly and began looking through the top shelf in his locker.

"Lee, what is it?" Kara asked.

Lee stopped his search and closed his eyes. "Frak," he breathed softly.

Kara stood up and put her hand on his shoulder. "What is it?" she asked again. He turned around to face her. She still couldn't figure out his expression. He wasn't scared or angry. He almost looked... sad.

"I'm sorry Kara," he whispered.

Her eyebrows arched in surprise. "Sorry for what?"

"Putting you through all of this," he said simply.

Kara frowned at him. "Lee, you didn't cause this," she told him firmly.

"I might have," he said quietly.

"No," she said resolutely. "Lee, don't even start blaming yourself. You were attacked. You were betrayed and attacked."

He nodded, "Yeah, I was... but..."

She shook her head. "No. No buts." He surprised the heck out of her then when he reached a hand up and brushed his fingers across her cheek.

"I'm still sorry for what you went through," he told her. "But I promise you it won't happen again."

"Got that right," she said, trying to mask the electric effect that his fingers had on her just by the gentle way he touched her. "'Cause I'm looking out for you, Buddy."

He gave her a sad smile, and then withdrew his hand. "I have to talk to my father," he said.

"Sure," she said. "Of course. Do you want a referee?"

Lee grinned. "No. We need to do this one on our own."

* * *

The knock on the hatch surprised William enough that he actually jumped a bit in his chair. Then he laughed at himself. "That's what I get for reading mystery thrillers before bed," he chuckled. He set the book he'd been reading aside and removed his glasses to rub at his tired eyes. Then he pushed himself upright just as his visitor knocked again. 

He glanced at the clock on his way toward the door and was surprised by how late it was. He hadn't intended to stay up reading for so long, but the book Laura had given him had really caught his interest. The late hour of the visit worried him. It had to mean there was something wrong. The last time he had received a late visitation was the night that Lee had nearly died.

At the hatch, he called out, "Who is it?"

The reply was, "It's Lee. Commander, I need to speak with you for a minute."

William spun the lock open, thinking that Lee was just about the last person he had expected to see. Now he was completely convinced that something had to be wrong. He had last seen Lee that afternoon, infuriated beyond words while staring at the bodies of Frosty and Stinger who were still "safely" locked inside of their cells. With their deaths, any trail back to the leader of the conspiracy... Tom Zarek in particular... was lost. The person ultimately responsible for trying to kill Lee was going to get away with it. William knew that after leaving the brig, Lee had gone racing laps around the ship _before_ strapping on his boxing gloves for a workout. William had hoped that the exercise overload would ultimately succeeded in calming Lee down, but if Lee was knocking on his door this late, it didn't look promising.

Expecting that his son would be standing rigid and angry when he opened the door, William tried to brace himself. Instead, he was surprised to see Lee looking very somber. That started to worry William even more.

Lee's eyes took in his father's state of dress. The commander looked like he had just rolled out of bed. "I'm sorry to wake you Commander. I know it's late, but..."

William shook his head. "I wasn't asleep Captain. Come on in." He held the hatch open until Lee had stepped inside then pushed it closed again. Whatever was on Lee's mind, William didn't think it was something to share with whomever might be passing in the hallways. "Would you like some coffee? It'll only take a few minutes."

Lee declined. "No Sir. Thank you... but this shouldn't take long." He didn't mention that his hands were already shaking slightly and a cup of liquid caffeine wasn't likely to help.

"All right, well at least have a seat." William waved Lee toward the couch. Lee sat down, but William noticed that he didn't relax back against the cushions. He was sitting on the forward edge with his forearms on his knees and his hands clasped together. William sat down beside him, also sitting forward in an unconscious reflection of his son's posture. "So, what's on your mind Son?"

Lee met his father's eyes. "I remember," he said simply.

A poignant smile crept across William's lips. He nodded in understanding. It was a relief that Lee's memory was restored, but William had no doubt that the memories were painful. William's own similar experience still haunted him regularly.

"It all just came back to me a little while ago." Lee dropped his eyes to the floor and took an unsteady breath.

William noticed how tightly Lee was clasping his hands and he was obviously struggling for words to tell his father what had occurred, but William didn't want Lee to dredge it all up in detail just for his knowledge. To help put Lee at ease he said, "I'm not going to ask you to tell me all about it. All I really need to know is if there is something you remember that was totally unexpected... something that changes what we've assumed up till now. Was there another person involved or...?"

"No," Lee said. "It was just Frosty and Stinger. Mostly Frosty. Stinger was in on it and knew what was happening all along, but Frosty was the one who actually stuck me with the Red Needle... and he was the one who... He grabbed hold of me so that I couldn't..." Lee's voice caught in his throat.

In spite of William's effort to give Lee an out about retelling what had happened, Lee seemed to need to speak of it, at least in part. So, William just listened and let his son say what he needed to say.

"I couldn't fight back," Lee said anxiously. "I tried. I did! I tried to get away, but the poison worked so damn fast. By the time I realized that I was really in trouble... I could barely even stand. I couldn't even scream. I couldn't break away from Frosty... and Stinger... Stinger just stood there."

William had to struggle with a sudden urge of tears as he watched his son painfully recounting his own murder. William wished suddenly that Lee had never remembered. He wished that Frosty and Stinger were both still alive, so that William could go and kill them both with his bare hands. He wished that he had gone ahead and throttled Tom Zarek when he'd had the bastard cornered and alone on the Tantalus. Unfortunately, all of those wishes were pointless, so he just placed a hand on his son's shoulder and said, "It's all right Kiddo. You made it through."

Lee took a deep trembling breath then faced his father again. "Dad... there's something else. Something else came back to me that I didn't remember before." He paused briefly for another deep breath. "Frosty and Stinger didn't swipe the Red Needle from my Viper. They didn't have to. It was in my locker. Stinger probably found it there; he was such a snoop. That's probably what gave them the idea to use it on me."

William absorbed this new piece of information with a sympathetic nod. He thought he already knew where Lee was going with this, but he still asked, "Why was it in your locker Lee?"

Lee cringed, but he didn't hesitate to answer. "Because I took it." He faced his father and explained, "It was weeks ago. You were dying. Kara was gone. Saul didn't know what the hell he was doing. The Quorum was up in arms. The civvies were screaming. The Cylons were everywhere. I hadn't slept in three days and I landed my Viper thinking that... I'd had it. I was just _done_. I started wishing that I had just smashed my Viper across the flight deck. But then I was glad I didn't... 'cause we're just too damn short on Vipers." Lee actually laughed at his own morbid logic.

William winced and told his son, "It's not the hardware that we really need Lee."

Lee shrugged. "Yeah well... then I figured, hell... I have my sidearm. I'll just go back to quarters and bite the barrel. No loss of a ship and no damage to the flight deck." Lee grimaced, and then added, "But then I thought what a mess that would be for someone to have to clean up. And that was when I remembered the Red Needle. Quick. Easy. Clean. So on an impulse... I grabbed it and stuffed it into my pocket. But by the time I got back to quarters... the impulse had passed. I didn't want to use it anymore. As frakked up as my life was, I didn't really want to die. So I tossed the damn thing onto the top shelf of my locker and I just left it there."

Lee looked his father directly in the eye and told him. "I didn't even look at the Needle again after that. And I swear to you, though I may have been in a crappy mood when I talked to you earlier that day... I had no intention of using the Needle the night that I was attacked."

"I believe you," William said quietly. "And yet," he pointed out, "you kept the Red Needle in your locker. You knew it was there... and you didn't put it back in your Viper, did you?"

After a few thoughtful moments, Lee admitted, "No, I didn't."

"Thought you'd keep it handy... for another time?"

Lee turned his face away. In a very quiet voice, he said, "I don't have a death wish Dad. But there have been times... a _few_ times... when I just felt like I was drowning and I didn't know if there was any point in fighting my way back to the surface again."

Lee was more relaxed when he looked at his father again. "Look, I'm okay now._ I am_. As Doctor Marsh put it, I still have issues... but I can handle those. Anyway... since I've been so touchy about trust and honesty lately... I figured that I owed you the truth about the Needle. I told you before that I didn't take it from my Viper and that was wrong. I really didn't remember taking it... but I remember now. I just wanted to be honest with you."

William gave Lee an appreciative smile and blinked a little extra moisture from his eyes. "Thank you for telling me," he said.

Lee finally sat back on the couch a little. "So what happens now?"

"How do you mean?"

"Are you going to revoke my flight status?" Lee asked without any trace of sarcasm.

William was thoughtful for several long seconds. Lee was just about convinced that he was going to be grounded when his father finally replied, "No. Considering all that's happened... you wouldn't be human if you didn't hit a few rough spots from time to time. Lords know, I have too. Under the circumstances, you're doing fine."

Lee was genuinely surprised to hear his father say that. "I'll bet that hurt to say," he commented.

"Yes it did," William agreed. "I'd still rather lock you up somewhere safe."

"But you know I'd pick the lock."

William reacted with a slight grin. Then his face became serious again. "Son, I know you've got a helluva stubborn streak in you. It was inevitable considering your mother and me. But when you feel yourself sinking like that, you've got to ask for help instead of trying to tough it out on your own."

"Who could I have asked Dad?" Lee asked. "Kara was gone. I didn't think we'd ever see her again. Cottle didn't know if you were going to live through the night. Saul was caught somewhere between being scared shitless and passed out drunk. The President... she has too much of a load to carry already. I can't dump on her. There was _no one_ to help me."

"There is now," William replied meaningfully. It dismayed him deeply to see that Lee still appeared doubtful. "Lee I'm going to ask you again. I would like you to reconsider continuing your sessions with Doctor Marsh. It doesn't have to be every day, but _please_ think about it."

Lee grinned, just slightly. "Actually Dad... I have another confession to make. I already have standing appointments with her twice a week."

William's face brightened with the news. Then he grinned in a mirror reflection of his son. "So do I," he admitted.

Lee's mild grin broke into a smile and he nodded. In some ways he and his father weren't so different after all. "Has she mentioned to you about having a joint session?" Lee asked tentatively. "Both of us at the same time?"

William winced just slightly. "Yes," he said. "She suggested it."

"What do you think?" Lee inquired hesitantly.

William's wince deepened. "I don't know."

"Scary?" Lee asked teasingly.

"A little," William admitted. "Mostly I... I just don't like the idea of... having an audience."

"While we fight?"

William's expression grew serious. "It wouldn't necessarily have to be a fight."

"We don't have such a good track record on our own Dad," Lee sadly pointed out.

William looked meaningfully at his son. "We're doing all right _now_... aren't we?"

Lee conceded that with a nod, but then he looked doubtful again. "We've only been talking about the last few weeks. What about the last _30 years_? You really think we can manage that without a referee?"

William thoughtfully replied, "We won't know until we try."

"I guess if we crash and burn we can always call for reinforcements."

"There's always that." William thought back briefly to those anxious hours he'd spent at Lee's bedside, praying for another chance to set things right with his son. He wasn't going to squander that chance again. "_Whatever needs to be done now, I will do it,_" he silently promised again.

William pushed himself up to his feet. "How about that coffee now?"

"Now?"

"This could be a long night."

Lee sat looking up at his father in surprise. "You really mean _now_? Right now, you want to try this?"

"Why not?"

"It's getting late."

"_Precisely_," William thought. "_It's late... but not _too_ late._" Aloud, he said, "All the more reason not to wait," William said.

* * *

Gaius Baltar relaxed back into the lounge chair and smiled contentedly. A soft breeze was blowing in off the water and sweeping across the open deck of his luxurious home where he was reclining in the warm afternoon sunlight. He had a cocktail in one hand and a beautiful blonde massaging his shoulders. It was good to be Gaius Baltar. 

Just for a moment, the shoulder massage turned menacingly vise-like. Baltar jumped in response. He knew the blonde woman quite intimately, yet by name he knew her only as Cylon Model # 6. "What was that for?" he asked her.

"Because I'm insulted Gaius," she said into his ear.

"Insulted about what?" he inquired, settling back as the massage resumed at a more comfortable pressure.

Her fingers dug firmly into his shoulders again. "About the fact that you actually want people to believe that Cylons would produce a model so mentally inferior as that pilot you recruited. Worse, the people do seem to believe it. It's insulting."

"Yes," Baltar said. "Unfortunately it is true that to be that stupid you really would have to be human. But, My Dear, just like your old chrome toaster relatives, even stupid people can sometimes have their uses."

"Such as doing all the dirty work for the geniuses," she purred.

"Precisely," Baltar said with a smug grin. "Anyone who pledges their support to a political candidate solely on the basis of something as arbitrary as what dead planet they come from is a political moron, who is already begging to be manipulated and therefore deserves to be taken advantage of."

He took a leisurely sip from his cocktail, then shook his head disdainfully. "When people chose who they vote for they should be judging the candidates based on their qualifications as an individual. What do they stand for? What are their beliefs? What is their experience... or education... intelligence?"

Number Six interjected, "Character... integrity... honesty?" She shifted positions so that she was seated on the edge of Baltar's lounge chair. The slit in the skirt of her bright blue dress fell open proactively as she crossed her legs. "But doesn't it concern you at all that both of those pilots turned up dead before they explicitly proclaimed their allegiance to Tom Zarek?"

"Not really," Baltar mused. "It's certainly no great loss to the human gene pool. Although, it would have been more _convenient_ if they hadn't been quite so tight-lipped about their loyalties to Zarek. Still, there is more than enough to raise suspicions and start a whole parade of rumors and innuendo once details of this whole affair start leaking out to the fleet."

Number Six peered coyly at Baltar. "Good thing you still have your little sex toy among the press corps."

"Yes," Baltar agreed. "Playa can be very _handy_ at times." He leered cunningly.

Baltar started to take another drink when Number Six closed her hand over his wrist and stopped him. Her expression grew more serious. "No doubt. But what I'm asking, Gaius, is aren't you at all worried that whoever killed those pilots to shut them up might do the same to you?"

Baltar shrugged dismissively. "No. There is, after all, absolutely nothing to tie any of these events back to me... _anymore_. Nothing can be done against me... the _Vice President_... without raising suspicions elsewhere. Besides, whoever Tom Zarek's little friend is aboard Galactica, it won't matter for very long. Zarek's days of influence are numbered. Once the gossip starts, the rumor mongers are going to have a field day with Mr. Zarek." He sat up straighter in his chair, grinning broadly. "You know, I do believe that the conspiracy theories people will be dreaming up will end up being far more sordid and entertaining than the simple truth."

Number Six clucked her tongue a few times, taking on an exaggerated expression of distaste. "Oh yes. Assassination attempts... complicity with a Cylon. _Shocking_. How could the people allow such a person in their government?"

"Tune in for news at eleven," Baltar grinned mockingly. "Zarek's supporters will soon be deserting him in droves and his campaign hopes will be dashed."

"And the race for the Presidency will be left wide open... except, of course, for the President herself."

Baltar shrugged and finished off his drink. "She's not a problem," he said. "As much as I do respect the woman, that whole nasty business with the coup has virtually guaranteed that she has no hope of reelection. Her leadership and ability to manage the military are simply far too questionable."

"Hmmm?" Number Six tapped her fingers on a bare kneecap, pondering. "I wonder who the people will turn to then? Who is left for them to pin their hopes on... _Mr. Vice President_?" She took Baltar's empty glass from his hand and set is aside on the deck, knowing full well that his eyes tracked her movements, especially the shifting of her low-cut neck line.

"You're quite good at writing computer code," he mused. "Do you think you could assist with an inaugural address? It's bound to be a very historic moment. I do want to make sure that I get it right."

Number Six smiled teasingly and leaned across Baltar's lounging body. "You haven't won the election yet Gaius. You've only just started clearing your rivals off the playing field." Her smile vanished and her voice became tinged with a dangerous edge. "And speaking of rivals... don't think that I don't know you were working _two_ playing fields here, not just one. The election is just one goal. Getting back into Lieutenant Thrace's pants is the other. You were trying to kill two birds with one stone, as it were." She leaned forward and ran one hand up Baltar's chest. "It's too bad that first little birdie didn't die. You only winged him. He's even back up and flying again."

"Yes, that was very rude of him," Baltar commented, warily watching his companion's fingers as they slid up toward his throat. "But it really doesn't matter," he said. "Captain Adama's survival is purely inconsequential in the larger scheme of things and Lieutenant Thrace is a pleasant diversion at most."

"Really?" she mocked him. "And it doesn't bother your ego in the least that when you were frakking her she was thinking of him? You don't have any interest in proving to yourself... and to her... that _you_ are the better man?"

Baltar's face became tensely serious. He growled, "I _am_ the better man. He can't compete with me."

She said teasingly, "But the captain _is_ still in the game Gaius."

Baltar relaxed again. "The game isn't made up of a single hand and you can't expect the cards to be dealt in your favor _every_ time. I lost one hand, but the game is far from over. The good captain does, after all, have a very dangerous job. Pilots die all the time. And in the end..._ I always win_."

Number Six smiled alluringly. "Of course you do Gaius. Or should I start getting accustomed to calling you '_Mr. President'_?"

The End


	20. Author's Notes

**Author's Notes**

Yes, of course Baltar gets away with it... for now. His part of "The Plan" is far from over, after all.

Q: Who killed Frosty and Stinger?  
A: Who killed Valance?  
;-)

Obviously this story is rapidly becoming AU with the arrival of season 2 episodes, but I still had fun writing it.

The conflicted loyalties of the two pilots who betrayed Lee Adama were inspired by numerous true-life stories from the American Civil War. It has intrigued me how men could go to war and fight alongside each other on foreign soil (Mexico) for the sake of their country, and yet turn arms against each other back home when it later became a question of _National_ loyalty vs. _State_ loyalty. Robert E Lee for instance, who was offered command of the Union Army before resigning to fight for the Confederacy, did not even truly support the dissolution of the Union... but in the end came to decide that his ultimate loyalty was to _Virginia_, not to the United States of America. It's especially unfortunate when you consider that Lee was the greatest general of the war, and if he had chosen instead to accept the post with the Union Army, the Civil War might have ended far sooner than it did. The American Civil War occurred more than 80 years after the United States was established... a period that is much longer than the apparent time since the _Articles of Colonization_ united the 12 Colonies of Kobol under a single government. It stood to reason then, from my point of view, that there could still be many lingering conflicted loyalties amongst the citizens of the Rag Tag fleet. Do they see themselves as a united people yet, or still as a collection of separate colonies? I think there must be many different answers to that question throughout the Colonial population.

The story of the "prank" inflicted upon Lee by his brother was inspired by the _alleged_ true life prank that Jamie Bamber suffered at the hands of his co-stars during the location filming of "Horatio Hornblower." The play-by-play details are of course my invention, but the basic events _may_ actually be true... though those who could positively confirm or deny it aren't talking. Some who have heard the "real" story believe there is indeed photographic evidence... but again, those in the know aren't sharing.

I wish I could say that Dr. Edith Marsh was inspired by someone in my own life, but she is essentially just a product of my imagination. I'm pleased to see that she has meet with such a warm reception. I may have to bring her out to play again.

Thanks again for taking the time to read this story and my subsequent ramblings. Sincere thanks to everyone who has taken the time to offer a review. Your comments of support are deeply appreciated, and constructive criticisms are always welcome and encouraged.

Long may BSG run on SciFi.

So say we all!


End file.
